


Fireflies in September

by gotsichi7



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fictitious Fairy Tales, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mystery, One scene with a detailed description of a panic attack, Time Travel, a lot of pining, all of GOT7 are best friends as they are in real life, but also expect markjin being too soft for each other, but skips are provided, it's a time travelling fic so expect flashbacks and confusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotsichi7/pseuds/gotsichi7
Summary: Mark’s time travel essentials are as follows: a firefly, a ring and a whole bunch of regrets. He had all of that, now all he needed was Jinyoung.
Relationships: Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 34
Collections: Spring Blooms: MarkJin Fic Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins on the 1st of September 2019. The dates, although not all, may be of some importance so I advise you to proceed with that in mind. 
> 
> Trigger warnings include one detailed description of a panic attack in the Prologue which is clearly marked with -TW- and skippable. 
> 
> This was a monstrous thing to not only write but also plan. That being said, it is the first time I was ever able to churn out more than 20k words in a span of four(?) months which is a huge achievement for me. But of course, none of that would be possible if I had not had the support of the people who helped and cheered me on. 
> 
> Firstly, I would like to thank Julie who is the true saviour of this fic. Countless times I have ran to her, crying about writing and planning this monster and she has kept me above water. Second, to the admins of Spring Bloom who organized this wondrous fic fest which seems to be the only thing that can keep me writing. Last but not least, I would like to thank Anonymous, who provided this ever challenging prompt and ever pushing me to my limits. I have a feeling a 23k word fic was not what you had in mind but I hope you like it nonetheless. 
> 
> Disclaimers: Any mistakes found in this fic are my own.
> 
> P.S.: Don't forget to give some love to other fics in the collection as well!

### Prologue

The first sound Mark heard was a rustle. His shoes padded across the forest grounds, the sound echoing. He was a child again.

His grandfather held his little hand, as his other hand grappled onto the jar with holes poked into the lid; inside it small fireflies twinkled. It’s dusk, sunlight almost completely leaving them as they headed to the end of the forest into a clearing. 

_Do you remember the tale of the Firefly Prince, Mark?_ His grandfather asked. Little Mark nodded enthusiastically. How could he forget his favourite bedtime story?

_The firefly prince wished upon a star but it was a firefly_ , he answered, raising the jar so he could once again see the fireflies twinkle. They really did look like stars. 

_What did he wish for, my boy?_ His grandfather lifted him in his arms, smiling. 

_He wished to go back in time._

_Yes he did. He went back in time to undo the things he regretted in his past._ His grandad placed him down again, hand outstretched, silently asking for the jar from Mark’s hand. _Are you ready to let them go?_

Mark nodded and watched as his grandfather unscrewed the jar and the stars flew away. It looked like stars going back into the night sky. Without realizing, he wished upon the stars that flew up for the ability to go back in time to undo everything.

Because he regrets it. Regrets it **_all_ **. 

_Let’s go, my boy._

Mark wakes up with a jolt, blinking in confusion. The sunlight fills his room but he feels as if he is stuck in the dusk holding his grandfather's hand. If it was a dream, why did it feel like a memory?

-o0o-

####  **[ PRESENT DAY ]**

#####  **1st September 2019; 10.48 p.m.**

_Squelch_

_Squelch_

_Squelch_

_Squelch_

The footsteps from wet shoes echoes in the hallway of a quiet apartment building, leaving puddles of water. Each step taken towards apartment door number 1507 is mechanical, muscle memory completely taking over, each step a mindless task. 

Mark lifts his hand towards the keypad on the door, placing his palm on the cold glass panel waiting for the touchscreen keypad to light up with a beep. But it doesn’t. His hands are too cold. 

He lifts his palm from it and sees that the keypad is now wet. His hands are too cold, too wet. 

He stares at the water droplets creating mist on the glass panel where the keypad should light up. But now it's just misty, watery, and unlit. Nothing is going right for him. Nothing ever goes right for him. 

He places his still wet and cold hand on the door which was equally cold but—at the very least—dry. The droplets soak into the cold dry surface. He leans heavily into his hand, his arms straining to keep him upright. His legs are tired and cold, his head void of thoughts. 

With a grunt he forces his weight back on his weakening legs, trying again to place his now hopefully dry palm on the glass panel, waiting for the keypad to light up with a beep. 

_Beep._

His shoulders relax as he relies again onto the muscle memory, keying in the passcode. The little clicks of his nail against the glass panel are drowned by his harsh breathing. 

_042209*_

He stumbles to his knees on the cold tiles of the entrance way. 

——TW——

His chest constricts, huffing fast, shallow breaths. Panic overfloods him, gasping for breath, dreading his life ending from being unable to breathe.

Suddenly, everything is dark. There is a deafening ringing in his ears. Desperate to silence it, he clasps his ears with his hands but it's futile. Silence is nowhere to be found.

He grasps his throat, twisting his body that is slumped on the ground, clutching onto the pain within it. There are tears, screaming, sobbing which he thinks is coming from him but instead he is overwhelmed by the pain in his head, his ears, his _everything_. 

——TW——

He turns over and lays on his back on the slowly dampening carpet, some part of his jacket is bunched and bundled under him digging into his back painfully, but the dull pain grounds him to his surroundings. What feels like an eternity later, the noises fade and he starts to see through the darkness to the patterns of the ceiling in front of him.

He lies there, blinking away the remnants of tears he shed in the whole ordeal. At the edge of his awareness, he hears small thumps. At first, the sound seems far away but as he listens more carefully, it becomes louder. 

_bump... bump… bump_

His head turns to the sound and squints at the balcony window. A twinkle of light moves towards the window— _bump_ ... _ba-bump—_ hitting it in repeated soothing thumps like the _thump thump thump_ of his heartbeat. 

Mark groans, mustering the strength to stand up to take a closer look at the moving twinkling light. He wobbles as he gets to his feet but manages to steady himself, stumbling towards the balcony window that shows the view of the city skyline.

_bump... bump… bump_

The twinkling light still hits the window to the beat of his heartbeat but skips a beat when Mark stands in front of the window. 

_bump…_

It hits the window again only once, then moves higher. It looks like a star but when he squints he sees that it’s a firefly. Its blinking light brighter than any firefly he has ever seen. Mark unlatches the glass balcony door, opening it, welcoming the autumn air with the twinkling little firefly into his dark living room. It flies in front of Mark in circles, the light on its abdomen flashing to the beat of an unheard melody. 

“What are you doing in the cold, little buddy?” His voice is hoarse as he speaks. He raises his hand towards it as if enchanted. “Are you lost?” 

It settles on his finger and doesn’t move.

“I thought you were a star,” he rasped, voice still raw.

The light on its abdomen flashes faster. 

_Blink blink blink…_

Mark brings his hand to his face to inspect it closer. Is his tiredness making him see things or is the light glowing brighter with each flash?

_Blink blink blink…_

Ah, it is, he isn’t imagining it. Is he also imagining the bug getting warmer on his hand?

_Blink blink blink…_

The light grows brighter till Mark has to squint from the glare. It’s too bright; his eyes can’t take it. 

So he closes them. 

-o0o-

_Light flashed, lightning, and Mark was soaked. So was Jinyoung. Both from the unforgiving rain and the tears mixing with the rain on his face. Jinyoung was shouting at him things he cannot hear or things he pretends not to. He doesn’t know. Lightning flashes again, blinding him._

_Jinyoung was mad. Jinyoung glared at him, full of contempt. Mark feels his heart break at the pure disgust in Jinyoung’s tone. He feels mad, wronged, but the words Jinyoung spoke to him makes his vision spin. He wants to vomit. So he does._

_Mark sat in the darkness of his apartment. It’s raining outside but he paid it no mind, staring blankly at his phone. Loneliness, despair, and regret overwhelmed him. Lightning flashed across the city skyline and he caught it at the edge of his vision._

_His apartment was empty except for the boxes piled everywhere. A mess of his things lumped in small corners of rooms. His throat hurt from shouting and he was breathing quick shallow breaths. Regret quickly filled him but as he turned he heard the front door slam closed. It’s too late._

_He was swimming in blue water. Sunlight penetrates the water decorating the pool floor with mesmerizing light patterns. He surfaced and caught Jinyoung, bundled up in a blanket, a pout directed to him. When they make eye contact he looks away, as if Mark wasn’t supposed to see him sulk. Mark opens his mouth to say something but ends up swallowing water as he is pushed under water again._

_People were behind him, jostling him from where he stood. They had their drinks up in the air, shouting words Mark cannot hear in unison. Jinyoung was standing close next to him, drink in hand, smiling. Mark smiled back. When everyone stops shouting, the people behind him kiss. All the people around him were kissing. Mark looked at Jinyoung who sipped his drinks, and followed promptly, sipping his own._

_Mark stood at the edge of his school rooftop, clearly upset. He looked up and Jinyoung was looking at him, a frown on his face. Mark turned away, wanting to be left alone and Jinyoung left._

-o0o-

“A rigour passed over him, blood rose into his cheeks—”

Mark stirs at the voice but refuses to open his eyes. He hopes sleep invites him back into its arms, but the voice continues to keep him awake. 

“—his forehead, and there was a steady thumping in his ears.”

He stretches, choosing instead to clutch onto the remnants of Jinyoung’s voice in his dream. It’s familiarity is comforting, nostalgic. His tone soothing as he tells the story Mark has heard again and again in his youth. The memory of those moments they shared are precious to him to this day. It is a tone he will no longer hear from Jinyoung. 

His chest constricts. 

“It was _first love_ .” Jinyoung’s voice carries on, interrupting his depressing thoughts. It’s _The Curious Case of Benjamin Button_. Mark knows this scene by heart because Jinyoung had read it to him so many times when they were in high school. It’s the scene where Benjamin meets his first love and Jinyoung can’t seem to get enough of it. Insisting always to read it out loud to him. 

He misses Jinyoung. 

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now!” 

A smack lands on his arm and it jolts him awake, sitting straight up from the force. Blinking as he takes in his surroundings, his jaw hangs slack in shock. He was not where he expected. 

Instead of the bed in his lonely dark apartment, Jinyoung is looking at him—dressed in their high school uniform—eyes wide in shock, hand on heart, cross-legged with a copy of his short story in his lap. It takes him a moment before he recognizes the bare, open space of the rooftop of his high school. The whole scene is familiar; the rooftop, Jinyoung and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. 

“Yah! You scared me!” Jinyoung scolds, disgruntled as he lifts his battered book.

It looks **real**. This dream where he is back on the rooftop of his highschool with Jinyoung reading to him as he naps. How is this dream so vivid?

“Are you going back to sleep?” Jinyoung asks, looking at him. Mark had been staring. He doesn’t answer, not knowing how to, and Jinyoung smacks him on his arm again. 

“Ouch!” Mark yelps. That **hurt** . That actually **hurt**. How could it hurt if this was a dream?

“Earth to Mark Tuan! Stop daydreaming! The graduation will start soon!” 

“Graduation?” His thoughts run wild. He remembers coming home in the dead of the night and falling to his feet at the front door. He remembers the panic attack overflowing him. Then there were flashes of his memories before Jinyoung woke him. He digs his fingers deeper into his palm, his nails painfully indenting his hand. The pain he feels from the pressure is _real._

_This isn’t a dream._

“Are you deaf or are you ignoring me to annoy me?” Jinyoung asks, patience clearly thinning. He stands up then waits for Mark to follow. When Mark doesn’t, he rolls his eyes and offers his hand. Mark reaches and notices something he had never noticed before.

On his ring finger was a silver ring; a simple engraving on the front. The engraving is a top view of a creature with wings—a butterfly, a bird, or an insect of some sort—with a yellow stone as its tail. The precious stone shines in the sunlight. The glare of it causes Mark to squint, then it hits him. 

The _thump thump thump_ at his window and the moving twinkling light. The blinding light and the warmth on his finger. The ring sits cold on his finger. 

This was no butterfly or bird. It’s a firefly. 

Gravely, Mark quietly asks, “What have you done, little buddy?” 


	2. Chapter 2

#####  **YEAR -6 (13th February 2013)**

Mark sits through his graduation as if it's a dream but knows full well it is not. His parents kiss him, he takes photos, he holds up his high school diploma as if it is his best achievement so far but he knows it will not be.

He spends the whole ceremony wondering how he has found himself on his graduation day in 2013. He knows the ring is involved somehow. He has never seen it before. The firefly knocking on his window and the ring that now sits on his finger. The flashes of his memories which lead to him on his highschool rooftop. Then he woke up here. In a totally different year.

When the ceremony ends, he finds himself making his way to the rooftop again. He stands by the ledge, looking out at the school grounds. He doesn't remember if he had done the same thing six years ago. There were too many times he had stood at this very spot, hiding or skipping class; sometimes with Jinyoung, sometimes not. What he does remember is arriving late to the PC cafe where they promised to meet and his friends sarcastically applauding. His friends—those that graduated with him, Jaebeom, Jinyoung and Jackson, and those that skipped school to celebrate, Youngjae, Bambam and Yugyeom—end up spending the rest of the day playing video games and snacking.

“Why did you bring me back here, little buddy?” Mark asks pointedly at the ring on his finger. The metal is still cold despite being on Mark’s warm finger the whole day. He doesn’t dare take it off, worried it may temper with the— _spell? dream? very vivid hallucination?—_ and he does not want to take his chances. 

“Why are you talking to your hand?”

Mark startles. Jinyoung joins him at the ledge, sitting down so his feet dangle off it. Mark mirrors his movement without a thought. 

He presents the ring to this younger version of Jinyoung—no stubble, lanky, young—and shrugs. “Do you think it’s pretty?”

“Your hand?” Jinyoung asks, puzzled. 

Mark shakes his head and points to the ring with the firefly symbol. “This,” he snapped.

“What's wrong with your finger? Did you cut it?”

Jinyoung was still puzzled. Mark brings his hand closer to the other, finger pointing directly at the ring. “No. Look properly at the ring,” he says.

Jinyoung eyes his finger then raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t get it. What ring?” he chortles. “Do you want a ring for your birthday or something?”

It then dawns on him that Jinyoung can’t see it. Which could only mean two things; the ring is somehow magic or Mark is complete and utterly insane and has vivid hallucinations. 

Mark is starting to think it's the latter. 

“What’s up with you anyway?” Jinyoung asks. His eyes filled with concern. “Aren’t you glad this is the last day of school?”

It is then that the deja vu hits him as the memories flood back to this conversation of six years ago. 

_Mark stood at the edge of his school rooftop, clearly upset. He looked up and Jinyoung was in front of him, a frown on his face. Mark turned away, wanting to be left alone and Jinyoung left._

He remembers feeling upset that it was the last day of school. He remembers feeling even more upset that everyone was so glad school was finally over. It wasn't that he didn’t like that school was over. God forbid he would have to go to school for another year, but it wasn’t that, no. It was the realization that he would no longer be spending his days with Jinyoung beside him. It was realizing he wouldn't need to walk to school with Jinyoung, sit next to him in class, skip class on this very rooftop, or listen to Jinyoung read the same book again and again. 

He was upset that without school there would be no excuse to spend all his days with him, and Jinyoung didn't care. And instead of telling Jinyoung what he felt, he had exploded at Jinyoung and made everyone leave him alone. 

Even six years later, Jinyoung never knew. 

“I’m fine,” Mark answers, sinking feeling growing uncomfortably in him. 

Jinyoung frowns at the reply, knowing that Mark was placating him. He always knew more than he led on. “You don’t look fine,” Jinyoung points out. “I know you’re upset.”

_Just leave me alone!_ is what the past-Mark had said, or rather shouted. But he knows that when he had snapped Jinyoung had turned his back and left. When Mark finally joined them at the PC cafe, Jackson had glared at him while Jinyoung completely ignored him. Somewhere between PC games and excessive amounts of snacks, Mark had caught Jinyoung’s red rimmed eyes and understood Jackson’s glare. 

“I am upset.” Mark begins, looking down at his feet dangling in mid air then glances at Jinyoung. The sinking feeling of having to _talk about his feelings_ like this eats at him but he tamps down the urge to be angry. It’s not easy but he must endure.

Jinyoung's face is etched with unconcealed shock as if he didnt expect Mark’s honesty before he catches himself and schools his expression. Mark would laugh but he is focused on expressing what he had been hiding for six years. 

He takes a deep breath, ignoring all the instincts he has to shut up, and begins, “it's the last day of school and I really should be happy but…”

“It’s also the last of us walking to school together; the last of us skipping class so you could read to me, the last of all of us seeing each other almost daily, the last…” he paused, overwhelmed with tears threatening to spill over but he looks at Jinyoung and continues, “the _last_ of our youth.”

Mark turns his gaze intensely at Jinyoung. “We’ll grow up and won’t see each other like this anymore. The worst part is it's all over now and I never ever appreciated it.”

He sighs thinking about his future and how it unfolds to him having breakdowns in his empty apartment, lonely and desperate. How one moment he was the one next to Jinyoung, and the next he wasn’t. He struggles to contain this overwhelming heavy feeling in his chest. When he looks at the other, Jinyoung’s eyes are glassy.

“Oh my god! Why are you crying?” Mark panics. 

Jinyoung laughs albeit a watery one, “It’s not your fault.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m upset too! How could you say those things and not think I feel the same way?” He complains as tears fall down his face freely, unlike Mark’s restrained ones. Even as he cries he is beautiful. Mark’s heart aches at the sight. 

He had never known that Jinyoung had felt this upset about everything all along. All Mark cared about was himself. _Idiot._

He pulls Jinyoung into his arms, hugging him tightly. “And here I was thinking I was the only one who felt sad.”

He relaxes into the embrace, enjoying the warmth of Jinyoung crying silently in his arms. His own tears threaten to fall but he holds on. This was a happy moment; he shouldn’t cry. 

Minutes pass before Jinyoung wiggles out of the embrace, smiling at him even as tears still stream down his face. It’s a sad smile but it suits this bittersweet moment. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Jinyoung says, visibly holding in his tears. He smiles wider, eyes still red, watery. His mind flashes back to when he had seen the red-rimmed eyes in his past and compares it to the one in front of him. 

“I won’t leave you alone, Mark Tuan, I promise.” Jinyoung squeezes Mark’s sides, voice thick with remnants of tears. Mark wants to laugh at the irony of the statement but Jinyoung doesn’t know better does he?

“Ouch!” He yelps when he feels scorching heat on his finger. He looks at his right hand and sees that the ring is lit. The glare is strong enough that he needs to squint to properly see. 

Looking around he sees that his surroundings are beginning to fade. Then he looks back at the ring which continues to shine brighter until everything turns black again. 


	3. Chapter 3

#####  **YEAR -6 (31st December 2013)**

Mark flinches from the pain of his head hitting the wall in front of him as a person squeezes past him. Taking in his surroundings, he was still not back in his apartment. But where (or _when_ ) was he?

Music is blaring loud behind him. There was a crowd behind him; some dancing, some singing. A familiar buzz of alcohol runs in his veins, so he knows wherever—or _when_ ever he is—he has had some to drink. It’s a house party and it's packed to the brim with people. He can’t find anyone familiar or anything he can recall.

He looks down at his finger and sees the ring sitting there. Once again, cold to the touch. It was no longer scorching him or shining the way it was when Jinyoung was crying in his arms. The stone is shiny but not enough to make Mark squint at its glare. What had triggered it to bring him here? How did he end up in this time slip?

He squeezes past everyone hoping he can find a familiar face. Instead, he ends up at the kitchen and decides he might as well get himself a drink. As he pours himself a drink, Youngjae appears through the kitchen door, smiling widely at him. 

“Oh, Youngjae, where have you been? Want a drink?” Mark says handing his cup to Youngjae. Youngjae thanks him, seeming winded. It is then that Mark sees Jinyoung trailing behind Youngjae, clearly inebriated. He can’t help but feel excited to see him but holds it in. Both of them still look young. So his closest guess is that it's nowhere near the present time.

“Ah, taking care of a drunk Jinyoung-hyung is difficult,” he whines, glancing at Jinyoung who was now dancing next to them to Call Me Maybe. “He was trying to dance on the dining table just a moment ago.”

Mark laughs along with Youngjae who is the image of youth. His face is rounded with baby fat that he would grow out of in the years to come. They watch Jinyoung dance for a moment, his movements sloppy and smile unrestrained, laughing. Youngjae glances at his watch and sighs. 

“I need to pee. Watch over him!” He places his unfinished drink on the table and makes to leave. “If I’m not back before midnight, happy new year, hyung!” 

It’s then he realizes where he is. It’s New Year’s Eve of 2014. They had just graduated and were invited to a senior’s new year’s party. He had left his house that day set on leaving the party with a kiss to start his 2014. They say what you do at the stroke of midnight, you will do all year. And as a 20 year old boy, he was done with being alone. He was an adult; he should be dating, in a relationship or whatever it is everyone is doing. 

But he had left the party disappointed. The countdown happened and all he was holding was a drink, eyes on Jinyoung, wondering if he kissed Jinyoung at this very moment would their friendship ever be restored.

At this point of his life, he was still struggling with the fact that he swung both ways. Past-Mark also hadn’t realized his feelings for Jinyoung was never just friendship. Even if it’s clear to himself now that he will forever have feelings for Jinyoung. Despite the heartache and it being unrequited, he always has and always will love him. He had just been too blind to see.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jinyoung slurs his words, taking Youngjae’s place. “Have any luck with the ladies?”

Mark shakes his head and Jinyoung downs the rest of Youngjae’s drink. He wants to tell Jinyoung to slow down on the alcohol because he would regret it in the morning but he knows from experience that there are things that are just better learned the hard way. 

Jinyoung props his head on his arm, his body leaning heavily on the kitchen counter. He smiles at Mark. “Can you believe it’s going to be 2014?” Jinyoung says, coming close so Mark can hear him over the loud music. 

Mark shakes his head, though not for the reason Jinyoung thinks. He can’t believe it’s going to be 2014 because in his mind it's 2019. He studies Jinyoung’s face and it isn’t much different from his face when he was in high school. The smile that plays on his face is unguarded, probably from the alcohol.

“Are you having fun?” Mark asks because 2014-Mark might have felt his new year’s kiss was important but the him of 2019 only wants to know how Jinyoung is doing; if he is having fun. 

“Yeah. Isn’t it close to midnight? Shouldn’t you be on the hunt?” Jinyoung is coming closer, leaning his body towards Mark as he reaches for the drinks in front of him. Their shoulders brush and it’s something about the way Jinyoung looks at him that makes him say what he says next. 

“I’m stalking my prey,” Mark drawled, leaning in, watching Jinyoung’s every move meaningfully. “Just waiting for the right moment to ambush.”

_TEN_

Jinyoung looks around as if trying to find Mark’s ‘prey’ before slowly realizing...

_NINE_

Everyone around them is counting down in unison, drinks up in the air, bursting with excitement. Mark doesn’t break eye contact with Jinyoung. 

_EIGHT_

_SEVEN_

_SIX_

Deja vu hits him as Jinyoung smiles but it’s full of meaning. His intent unveiled, eyes inviting. 

_Jinyoung was standing close next to him, drink in hand, smiling. Mark smiled back. When everyone stops shouting, the people behind him kiss. All the people around him were kissing. Mark looked at Jinyoung who sipped his drink, and followed promptly, sipping his own._

In the past, Mark had thought it to be innocent but now that he sees it with clearer eyes, he knows it is anything but innocent. 

_FIVE_

_FOUR_

_THREE_

Jinyoung sips his drink, looking away, thinking maybe Mark was just joking. But he knows what it felt like to just sip his drink when the countdown reached one, knowing he had missed this opportunity. So instead of picking up his drink the way he did in his past, he puts it down. For a fraction of a second, Mark catches Jinyoung’s surprised look. 

_TWO_

_ONE_

He pulls Jinyoung closer to him and catches his lips. It’s as soft as he thinks it is and a bit more. Jinyoung doesn’t resist, instead leans into it, which catches Mark completely by surprise. The part of him thinking that Jinyoung would slap him across the face relaxes and makes space for the warmth and pleasure spreading from his chest outwards.

Mark wants to deepen the kiss but holds back, instead separating himself but keeping Jinyoung in his arms. “Is this okay?” he whispers. 

Jinyoung nods, in a daze. Mark kisses him once more, a quick chaste one because he can’t resist it when Jinyoung looks this blissed but he needs to say it before it’s over. 

“Don’t forget this in the morning, okay?” Mark begs as the ring on his finger gets warmer. He knows it’s time to go, it must be. He hopes it means a brighter future.

“Okay,” Jinyoung mumbles, smiling a beautiful smile. Something about not being able to enjoy this smile more makes Mark’s heart ache. The ring is shining now, so he leans in and kisses Jinyoung again, this time more eagerly. 

He sighs when Jinyoung's response is with equal eagerness before he feels a familiar scorching on his finger and lights blinding him. He closes his eyes. 


	4. Chapter 4

The sun is setting. On his finger, the firefly ring is not there. Instead his grandfather is in front of him, sitting on a lone bench looking at the sunset. He doesn’t turn to look at Mark but somehow Mark knows his grandfather is aware of his presence. 

_“What did he wish for, my boy?”_ His grandfather asked, still not looking at him. 

As if he had heard the question a thousand times before, Mark knew the answer. 

_He wished to go back in time._

-o0o-

#####  **YEAR -3 (7th June 2016)**

Mark jolts awake from the car steering wheel that he had been leaning on, likely rented since he never owned a car. Strange relief overflows him when he feels the icy metal of the firefly ring on his finger. In the dream, the ring was not there. 

_What did he wish for, my boy?_

That was a weird dream. Was it a dream? Was he still dreaming? 

Mark ruffles his hair, frustrated at the predicament he was in. Reality was quickly warping and he felt as though he was losing his mind. First he had been in his high school graduation day, leaving promptly after finally confessing his upset feelings to Jinyoung. And then it had been the new year’s party, and he had kissed...

He touches his lips, still able to feel Jinyoung’s lips on his. His heart thumps loudly wondering if the kiss had changed between him and Jinyoung. Did Mark finally confess? Did Jinyoung accept his feelings? Was Jinyoung kissing him back a sign that maybe Jinyoung shared his feelings?

He feels heat rise to his cheeks, undoubtedly turning pink. _Does that mean they were dating?_

He tamps down the happiness that overflows within him, worried that he may be disappointed. Jinyoung was quite drunk and even though he was quite adamant that Jinyoung not forget it in the morning, if he did forget, Mark would have kept his silence. A _coward._

He looks outside the car windows, seeing a familiar neighbourhood. Didn’t Jinyoung used to live close by? 

A quick glance at the dashboard tells him it’s about two years since the new year of 2014. As if on cue, the passenger car door opens to reveal a slightly flustered Jinyoung.

“Sorry for making you wait!” He exclaimed. 

Hastily dumping an overnight bag in the back seat, he gets in the passenger seat. Just as he reaches for the door to close it, he jerks uncontrollably, letting out a series of sneezes. 

“Ugh!” He groans, wiping his nose with a handkerchief from his pocket, lamely closing the door behind him, and slumping into his seat. Jinyoung closes his eyes for a second as if gathering strength before opening them again and buckling himself in. Each movement is lethargic. 

“Are you okay?” Mark asks, handing Jinyoung the box of tissues on the dashboard. 

This Jinyoung has grown significantly. His features have grown more prominent; his sharp jawline and high cheekbones highlighting his handsome face. There is a shadow of stubble growing around those sharp features and as Mark well knows, it will continue to grow increasingly obvious. Even his body has grown, muscles slowly filling in. It’s nowhere close to the way Jinyoung has bulked up in recent years but he can see that this was the start.

But all these changes pale in the starkness of how sick Jinyoung looked.

Somewhere in his memories, he had been on a roadtrip with a sick Jinyoung. He distinctly remembers Jinyoung pretending not to be sick, overly excited with every song that played on the radio, poking unnecessarily at him. But where were they headed?

“Yeah, it’s just a bit of the flu,” Jinyoung says dismissively but his voice is thick with congestion. “It’ll be fine. We better go before they start the barbeque without us.”

And then suddenly it hits him. The roadtrip to the beach house they had rented together after Bambam had begged for a summer holiday with all seven of them. The barbeque they had by the private pool in the hot summer. The whole weekend was spent lounging in the pool and playing games. 

He also remembers watching Jinyoung get gradually sicker and sicker but continuing to play and pretending he wasn’t. Mark was riddled with worry but had kept his silence, allowing Jinyoung to get away with it. Jinyoung had collapsed as they were packing their things to leave and in a panic all of them had rushed to the hospital to find out that Jinyoung had a viral infection and being in the sun all day had just worsened his high fever. Dehydrated and exhausted, Jinyoung had spent a night in the hospital recovering. 

Jaebeom had scolded Jinyoung firmly about keeping these things a secret but all Mark had felt was an embedded regret from not calling Jinyoung out when he knew. He had been an accomplice and in the end Jinyoung had suffered. 

Jinyoung is pale as he lies in the car seat, leaning heavily on the head rest as if inches away from sleep. And yet his smile is bright pretending that he is perfectly fine; for the sake of others. 

It’s a thing that is so completely Jinyoung that Mark hasn’t got the heart to get mad at him for it. Jinyoung always puts everyone he loves before him. Always looking out for others. Always silently considering his next move and making sure everyone was taken care of. But he neglects himself. 

And when no one is taking care of Jinyoung, why was Mark not taking care of him? 

“Get some sleep, I’ll wake you when we are there.”

“Don’t you need help navigating?” Mark shakes his head, catching Jinyoung’s hand in his, squeezing. 

“Get some sleep, Jinyoung.”

Without much protest, Jinyoung reclines his seat and falls asleep as Mark drives away.

-o0o-

It is late afternoon when they finally arrive at the rented beach house. Jinyoung had slept the whole way, completely unaware that Mark had reentered the car with all the things he had bought at the convenience store (including all of the counter medication—the ones his mother’s home remedies said would help abate the symptoms, Jinyoung’s favourite snacks, and lots and lots of bottled water). He had made a call to Jaebeom ahead of time, warning him of Jinyoung’s state. Something he should have done the first time around. 

“Hey, Jinyoung, we’re here,” he gently nudges his shoulder but Jinyoung doesn’t budge. He looks so peaceful in his sleep that Mark feels bad for waking him but it will be more comfortable to sleep inside. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, wake up,” he strokes Jinyoung’s forehead, pushing loose hair strands behind his ear. Jinyoung groans, seeming to wake at the touch but instead of getting up, he catches Mark’s arm, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand, sighing happily and falling back asleep, all the while snuggling deeper into Mark’s palm. Mark chuckles at the sight, blush rising in his cheeks from the warmth of Jinyoung’s cheek in his palm; but he is filled with glee at Jinyoung’s clinginess. It’s too adorable. 

He uses his free hand to cup the other cheek, resisting the urge to lean closer and place a kiss on Jinyoung’s sleeping face. But it’s difficult; _very difficult_. So instead he strokes Jinyoung’s cheeks, half heartedly urging Jinyoung to wake with whispers, not really wanting this to end. 

“EW! They’re being disgusting!” Bambam squawks from outside the car which breaks the moment, shocking Mark into jerking his hands away and jolting Jinyoung awake. 

“Yah!” Mark shouts as he crosses over Jinyoung to open the passenger car door, shooting a warning glare at Bambam to which the younger replies with another loud ‘ew’. Embarrassment fills him from being caught but he quickly busies himself with fussing over the confused, sleep-addled Jinyoung.

“We’re here?” Jinyoung asks, speech riddled with slumber. Sleep lines have formed on his cheek, angry blotches of red painting his face in spots where it rested against the chair. 

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Mark replies, squeezing Jinyoung’s hand before opening his car door. He does his best to control the protectiveness he feels over Jinyoung, especially this vulnerable, sick, sleepy and confused version of him. The feeling is borderline possessive and he knows he has no right to feel this way. But he does. 

He gets out of the car and raises a threatening clenched fist to Bambam who was waiting at the door, laughing. It helps satisfy that possessiveness he feels, but when Bambam cackles louder he doesn’t know why he bothers. 

He rounds the car, just in time to catch Jinyoung who almost trips himself on the way to the door. 

“Watch it!” Mark squeaks. For once, he is thankful for his quick reflexes. He pulls Jinyoung close by the waist, letting Jinyoung lean onto him. Their closeness threatens more pink cheeks but Mark focuses on leading Jinyoung the right way. 

“I can walk,” Jinyoung groans, whining. His voice is still rough from sleep and Mark tries his best not to focus on it but it is useless. _One foot in front of the next, one foot in front of the next..._

“I know you can, Jinyoungie.” Mark smiles at him but doesn’t let go. Their audience—Bambam and Yugyeom—stand by the door, clearly holding in laughter. Mark just knows he would never hear the end of the teasing from these two from all of five of them, as a matter of fact, as if on cue, the other three emerge behind them. They’re all dressed in swimwear, in various states of dampness. Mark could have been having fun with them, swimming to beat the hot summer, but being the one holding Jinyoung up is so much better.

“Aww, look at them they’re so cute!” Jackson coos, which elicits more laughter from the younger ones. Jinyoung whines, half heartedly trying to loosen Mark’s grip on him but Mark is relentless, the fiery feeling of protectiveness not allowing him to let go. 

“Help bring out the stuff from the car.” Mark sternly orders them, ignoring the snickering that follows them as they go inside.

-o0o-

Mark manages to convince Jinyoung to rest as much as he can throughout the rest of the day with the promise that if he feels better in the morning they can spend the whole day swimming and playing games with the others.

Before setting up the barbeque grill, the boys played with water balloons. Mark has strictly forbade anyone throwing any at Jinyoung. Jinyoung had pouted and quietly protested at being shielded but had fun throwing balloons at the rest of them without repercussions. When Jinyoung cackled evilly after dumping 5 balloons on an already soaked Yugyeom, Mark wondered if he had created a monster. 

“Let’s play a game!” Jaebeom calls, stacking empty tin cans on the ground. They all huddle around, soaked, aside from Jinyoung, from the impromptu water balloon fight. “10,000 won for the first to knock all the tins over!”

A resounding cheer surrounds them, excitement bubbling. After a boisterous game of rock paper scissors, Mark is able to secure the second turn after Jaebeom.

“HAHA! Okay!” Jaebeom gloats, a smug smirk on his face as he takes his place at the mark ready to shoot his shot. “Thank you in advance!” he mocks, which elicits a round of laughter. 

Mark looks at Jinyoung, lining up behind Yugyeom, laughing along with the rest of them at Jaebeom’s smugness. He looks happy, pale, but ultimately happy. It’s far from the image of him pouting on the bench as they swam without a glance to him. 

Instead he’s there playing, laughing, and surrounded by his friends. And a big part of Mark wants to always put that smile on his face. All this time he had been next to Jinyoung. Middle school, high school, and now university days; he had always been by Jinyoung. 

“You’re gonna pay!” Jinyoung mouths when he catches Mark staring at him, smirking. 

“You’re going to make me pay?” He says as he steps closer to Jinyoung. 

Jinyoung nods, then tilts his head towards Jaebeom who was ‘stretching’ in exaggerated motions to ensure his win. Excitement was exuding from each ‘stretch’ Jaebeom made that only guaranteed him overdoing it. Youngjae and Jackson cackle in the background over Jaebeom’s antics, poking fun at him. . 

“Jaebeom is definitely not going to get it because he always loses when he is too excited. You and Yugyeom are going to lose too. And all of you are going to pay me. I’m going to be 60,000 won richer!” Jinyoung teases, too pleased at Yugyeom’s disgruntled moans. 

“Oh but what if I win, Park Jinyoung?” Mark pokes Jinyoung’s side, making Jinyoung yelp. “What then?”

“Begrudgingly, I will pay you 10,000 then.” he mumbles, eyes shifting to Jaebeom who has lifted his arm, bright green water balloon in hand. He takes a second to aim before letting out a guttural grunt, throwing the balloon directly on the floor a full foot away from the stacked cans. Just as Jinyoung had predicted. Jaebeom slumps to the ground just as everyone falls to the floor with laughter. 

“If I win you don’t need to pay me,” Mark blurts before he can hold himself back.

“YAH! You can’t do that! Just because I’m sick—”

“Go on a date with me.” Mark interjects, unable to look directly into Jinyoung’s eyes. “If I win this, don’t pay me. Go on a date with me.”

“Huh?” Jinyoung furrows his eyebrows but Mark is walking forward, resolved on bagging the win. His whole life now depends on it. 

He focuses on the pyramid-stacked cans, feeling as though the world suddenly moves in slow motion as he takes his aim and lets go of the water balloon in his hand. He watches, ignoring the loud thumping of his nervous heartbeat as the water balloon hits the rightmost can with a loud clang, and the whole pyramid falls. 

“YESS!!” Mark cheers as the rest of them sigh at their loss. He looks at Jinyoung, smiling widely because this was it. This was the moment his whole life would change. 

But Jinyoung is frowning. 

“Look! I won!” Mark beams, suddenly nervous. 

“Bets that don’t have the agreement of both parties are void.” Jinyoung deadpanned. 

It was Mark’s turn to stare at Jinyoung in confusion. _Was that a rejection?_

“If you want a date, confess properly. I’m not that easy!” Jinyoung jeers, sticking his tongue out for full effect, joining the rest of them who were now setting up the smoke grill for their barbeque later tonight. 

_Well that was an epic fail._

-o0o-

They have a barbecue, and even as Mark mans the grill, his eyes watch Jinyoung. Worried that Jinyoung’s fever would pick up again because they had played some games and also thinking hard about how Jinyoung had rejected him and encouraged him all in one breath. 

_If you want a date, confess properly._

Despite Mark’s worries, the night progresses and Mark can sit and have fun with his friends. Jackson cracking jokes, Bambam and Yugyeom making everyone laugh at the expense of making fools of themselves, Youngjae abusing everyone as he laughs at their antics and Jaebeom enthusiastically joining in on the jokes and games only to be further teased by everyone. 

Jinyoung is quiet, but he leans heavily on Mark’s side, laughing until it turns into fits of coughs. Mark ignores all the teasing his friends give him for his refusal to leave Jinyoung’s side. Instead he quietly plots his revenge by a series of pranks in the form of alcohol spiked ramyeon, vinegar shots instead of soju shots, and cheating in the games they play. Of course, all with the help of his partner in crime Jinyoung.

When the night dies down, everyone retires to their respective rooms. Mark ensures Jinyoung has eaten his meds, leaving him in his shared room with Youngjae, before making his way to the kitchen, feeling thirsty. His ring is still cold on his finger and a whole day has passed. Anxiety overwhelms him. 

When he was on the rooftop with Jinyoung on graduation day, instead of snapping at Jinyoung, he had opened up to him, triggering the ring to heat up. Then he was in the new year of 2014, and instead of sipping his drink, he kissed Jinyoung, effectively changing his course of action all those years ago. 

But now, he had completely gone off course and the ring was still cold. Where in the past he had kept his silence about Jinyoung’s sickness, he was vocal about it now. Where he was ignorant of taking care of Jinyoung before opting to swim and play games with his friends, he was following Jinyoung around like a puppy, tending to his needs. He had even shot his shot at pyramid stack cans for a chance which was very promptly shot down. 

He had done _everything_ differently and yet he was still here. Was he stuck here now?

He stared intensely at the firefly ring on his finger, thinking about the sequence of events, trying to find a pattern. The only time the ring was not on his finger was the dream where his grandfather sat on a bench overlooking the sunset and asked him:

_What did he wish for, my boy?_

And in that dream, Mark knew the answer. _He wished to go back in time._

And wasn’t that what he wished for when he woke up that morning? The morning before he had found the firefly knocking on his window pane. The morning before Jinyoung had—

He groans, rubbing at the stab of pain in his chest. 

“Are you okay?” Jinyoung’s panicked voice, grounds him to the present rather than the spiralling thoughts of his present(?)/ future(??)/ past(???). He doesn’t know anymore. 

“I tripped,” Mark lies, stroking his chest in a soothing up and down motion. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he quickly asked, hoping it would divert the attention off of him. 

“Youngjae said he was going to Jackson’s room and it got a bit lonely.” Jinyoung admits, scratching the back of his head. “I think he was going to ask to swap rooms with you but here you are.”

Mark laughs. Youngjae’s still as cheeky as ever.

“Let’s go then,” Mark smiles, a smile too wide. If Jinyoung notices, he doesn’t say anything. 

-o0o-

“You didn’t have to take care of me,” Jinyoung spoke into the darkness of their shared bedroom in hushed tones. It interrupts Mark’s musings of his timeslip problem. Mark looks at the other from where he lies. Jinyoung was on the pillow next to him, looking straight up at the ceiling; his thoughts seeming too far. 

“I didn’t,” Mark says, trying not to sound defensive, but he knows it comes out that way either way. “You’re sick. I’m just being accommodating.”

Something he said must have hurt him because Jinyoung looks at him with wide round eyes, gazing piercingly before diverting his stare. That gaze alone was enough to make Mark want to take everything back. Anything that he said that hurt Jinyoung. 

“I’m sorry?” Mark said unsurely.

“What are you apologizing for?” Jinyoung’s voice is hard.

Mark knows he has fucked up. He made it worse. But he doesn’t know how to fix it. And the inadequacy he feels from being unable to fix it kills him. 

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.” Jinyoung said icily. He turns away from Mark, wrapping the covers closely around him. 

Mark feels as though a door has been slammed in his face. It’s worse than the lighthearted, tongue to cheek rejection Jinyoung had thrown him earlier. That Jinyoung was not upset, this Jinyoung is.

What would he have done if he was past-Mark? 

He would have gone to sleep and hoped Jinyoung would forgive him in the morning. But he knows that was the wrong answer because Jinyoung always forgave him but he never truly forgot. 

_All these years, you had said nothing—nothing—at all._

He stares at the back of Jinyoung’s head, heart aching. All he wants to do is comfort Jinyoung, hold him in his arms. For Jinyoung not to be angry at him. Jinyoung definitely wants him to say something but words fail him. 

With no other better ideas he moves closer, ignoring the pounding of his heart in his ear, and wraps a tentative hand around Jinyoung’s waist over the covers. He is hit by the scent of Jinyoung’s shampoo which pleases him so he hums and plants his forehead on the stretch of fabric covering his shoulder blades. 

When Jinyoung doesn’t protest, he lets himself snuggle closer, reminding himself that it’s inappropriate to sniff other people. Though he’s sorely tempted to just bask in Jinyoung’s warmth. 

“Park Jinyoung, you really...” he hesitates, struggling to find the words. “You really mess with my head.”

Jinyoung shifts at the words, interest piqued.

“I do?”

When Mark doesn’t reply, Jinyoung turns towards him, just a few inches apart. Jinyoung looks at him expectantly and prompts another tiny, “I do?”

Mark nods in admission because he does. Even this closeness is making Mark dizzy. His eyes, his smile, his hair; everything about Jinyoung messes with his head. It drives him crazy and he doesn’t know what to do about it. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung says so innocently that Mark has to tamp down the urge to fold Jinyoung in his arms and never let go. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” he adds, “It’s difficult to explain. Sometimes, I know I make you upset but I don’t know how to fix it. I just want to make you happy.”

They’re close enough that Mark can see the pink colour Jinyoung’s cheeks rapidly. “I was quite happy when you volunteered to jump into the pool when I lost at rock paper scissors,” he jokes, smiling.

Mark laughs, thinking about flipping straight into the cold pool on behalf of Jinyoung at midnight. It was fucking cold but he would do it again if Jinyoung’s face lit up the way it did when Mark volunteered. “Did it make you happy watching me shiver like that?” he chuckles, which elicits more laughter from Jinyoung. 

“But you’d do that for anyone, won’t you?” Jinyoung asks when the laughter dies down. Mark raises an eyebrow in question.

“If Jackson was sick, you would have volunteered for him too. Even if sometimes you just want to throw a laptop at Bambam, you’d do that for him too, won't you?” Jinyoung explains, his tone somehow accusing. “You, Mark Tuan, are too self-sacrificing.”

Mark laughs. It’s funny hearing this jealousy from Jinyoung. This jealousy that Mark treats Jinyoung the way he does all of his friends when it isn’t even remotely true. But that’s not the thing that was the funniest, no. The funniest thing is that Jinyoung has the audacity to call him self-sacrificing. 

“You can’t call me self-sacrificing. Not when you went on this trip thinking you could trick all of us into thinking you weren’t sick. If I hadn’t intervened, we would have ended up spending tomorrow night at the emergency room.” Mark closes his eyes and lets the feeling of regret fill him when the doctor had broken the news about Jinyoung’s condition to him. “You would sacrifice yourself like that just for a chance to play with everyone and make sure no one was worrying about you.”

“I know you, Park Jinyoung.” Mark stares at Jinyoung, who looks caught. 

_I’m looking at you, Jinyoung. Only you._

Mark tries to control the fierceness in his chest as he says it. But the thought that Jinyoung will do it again and he won’t be around to look after Jinyoung is igniting the fire within him. He sounds stern as he says it, but he can’t help it, “Don’t do that. Even if you want to pretend to be fine with everyone else, don’t pretend with me. Tell me. You can do that right?”

Mark lets out a grunt at the force of Jinyoung pulling him into a fierce hug, his cheek pressed into his chest, arms wrapped tightly behind him. It takes him a minute to let the shock wash off before he relaxes into Jinyoung’s arms enough to reciprocate. He peeks at the other in his arms but all he can see is Jinyoung’s pink ears. 

“Thank you. I promise I’ll feel much better tomorrow and you can swim and not have to worry about me ok?” Jinyoung mumbles against his shirt. He wonders if Jinyoung can hear his pounding heart. He doesn’t really care to conceal it. Jinyoung deserves to know.

He smiles to himself, letting his hand rake through soft hair. He doubts they’d be swimming tomorrow but the memory of him swimming from before looms in his thoughts. 

_He surfaced and caught Jinyoung, bundled up in a blanket, pout directed at him. When they make eye contact he looks away, as if Mark wasn’t supposed to see him sulk._

Jinyoung won’t end up pouting tomorrow. He hopes.

The now familiar heat from the ring scorches his finger. He hugs Jinyoung closer and closes his eyes, allowing the firefly to take him wherever it wants.


	5. Chapter 5

There is a sunset again but instead of standing behind his grandfather, he is sitting on the bench next to him. The firefly ring is not on his finger. Instead they are surrounded by fireflies flying around them barely visible against the diminishing sunlight. A calm settles over him like the orange sunlight slowly hiding away from the moon. 

He turns to his grandfather, who was already looking at him, smiling. “Are you ready to let them go?”

Mark blinks in confusion at his grandfather. “Ready to let what go?”

“Your regrets, my dear boy. Are you ready to let your regrets go?” His grandfather smiles at him sadly. Mark doesn’t understand. 

“Your path from now on would not be easy,” he lifts his hand and a firefly lands on it, “Should you wish to continue it.”

Mark holds his finger where the ring is meant to be; it feels empty, wrong. By his legs he notices a jar and picks it up. It’s filled with fireflies. His grandfather holds out his hand asking for it but something tells him he doesn’t want to give it away. Not yet. 

“I see. Good luck then, my dear boy. Be strong!”

-o0o-

#####  **YEAR -1 (15th July 2018)**

The first thing that hits him is the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. Despite knowing full well he’s somewhere in his past, at the back of his mind he wants to be back in the present. He’s tired. Tired of seeing Jinyoung, holding him and having him slip away in the blink of an eye. Tired of reliving all these moments—his mistakes, his regrets—but knowing in the future nothing is changing.

How could it?

When he finally opens his eyes, there are piles of boxes stacked haphazardly. It’s a bright day outside and the sunlight that filters through the curtainless windows is searing. He sits on the floor of his master bedroom but it’s still empty; furniture still absent apart from the mattress he used before he bought a bed frame. Empty boxes next to his bed serving as makeshift bedside tables. The digital clock tells him it's the noon of 15th July 2018. One summer from the beach vacation they had and a year from where Mark came from. 

Habitually his fingers circle the cold metal of the ring (still there), contemplating his grandfather’s words.

_Are you ready to let them go?_

He stares at the firefly engraving, the yellow stone glinting as it reflects light, a memory of the trip he had taken to the forest with his grandfather when he was smaller. There was a fairytale told to him then. A story of the firefly prince who wished upon a star; but it was not a star. Rather, a firefly.

Just then the door keypad beeps and keeps on beeping. Mark leaves his room to come out to the living room. He crosses his arms at the view of Jinyoung bent over the keypad, tongue poking out as he concentrates on changing the code. 

Jinyoung is so focused he doesn’t seem to notice Mark’s disapproval until the chime of a successful input resonates in the bare apartment. When he finally does, Jinyoung smiles widely at him, albeit slightly sheepish. Mark suspects the sheepishness is for Mark’s sake rather than his own. Jinyoung is proud of the mischief accomplished. 

“I got caught,” Jinyoung laughs, closing the door behind him. He is dressed in a white shirt and strangely formal slacks carrying what smells like fried chicken. 

_Why are you dressed so nicely?_

Mark shivers at the nostalgic dread that fills him but recovers as Jinyoung smiles. It’s too charming. He won't ask it.

“Are you trying to lock me out of my own apartment?” 

Jinyoung yelps when Mark pokes his side. Mark can’t help the laughter that leaves him. Just being in Jinyoung’s presence makes him happy. Any sign of his previous fatigue is lost when Jinyoung smiles at him.

“You know the code! Don’t pretend!” Jinyoung shouts, acting mad but the cocky grin gives it away. Mark does know the code because he still uses the same passcode a year later. 

Jinyoung had changed it all those years ago and despite their fight, it remained unchanged. 

“I brought lunch,” Jinyoung starts unpacking their lunch onto the kitchen island. “You must be starving.” 

Mark lifts his phone, looking at Jinyoung who was now staring at him curiously, catching the shift in Mark’s thoughts, instinctively aware even before Mark vocalizes it. 

“Is it the same code for my phone?”

“Of course.” Jinyoung smiles, a wide and enchanting smile, and nods. 

“Why would it be anything else?” Jinyoung mumbles, chuckling slightly, seemingly pleased as he resumes laying out their lunch. “I’ve changed it for your phone as well, haven’t I?”

_Yes, for this phone and each one I have ever owned._

“Why did you do that?” 

He feels like he’s prodding a beehive with a stick; one wrong poke and it can be a disaster. He had never asked this question before. Despite all these years, Jinyoung had been changing the passcode, and Mark had never dared to ask—not even once. 

But he’s feeling reckless. And he’s holding the stick, prodding Jinyoung with his questions. The beehive that will give him the sweet honey of answers he seeks or ultimately be his demise. 

“Why do you suddenly ask?” Jinyoung asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Tension rising.

“Just because.” He tries to sound nonchalant but it falls flat, too eager to hear an answer. 

“You know… you know, what it means,” Jinyoung averts his gaze from Mark’s unyielding ones. He resumes unpacking the bags but his movements are stiff, tense. 

“042209… 04 for me, 22 for you, and 09 for us.” Mark says, sounding determined as he prods the beehive harder. Jinyoung had inserted himself into Mark’s life with these numbers. The numbers he uses to unlock his phone; the numbers he uses to unlock his apartment door. It has to mean something, doesn’t it?

Mark knows it means everything to him and yet that won’t change anything because Park Jinyoung still stands in front of him all dressed up and handsome. 

“Sounds corny when you say it like that..” Jinyoung falters, plastering a weak smile before mumbling his affirmation, “but yeah, that’s right… If you don’t like it, you could change it, you know.” Jinyoung says without looking at him, a clear sign he would be quite unhappy if Mark does change it. What’s up with that?

Mark is furious that he understands why Jinyoung would be unhappy if he does change it. He is furious that he knows it now and yet it is still too late. Jinyoung is overdressed for a casual lunch at his new home and Mark knows exactly why.

“I won’t change it,” Mark says assuringly. He finds his seat at the table and waits for Jinyoung to join him. 

“I like it. Me… you… us,” Mark says, smiling at Jinyoung. When he responds with a restrained smile, Mark picks up a piece of chicken and starts eating. But Jinyoung doesn’t. Instead, he’s staring too intensely at the chicken in front of him. 

Mark thought he had dodged a bullet but the elephant in the room refused to be ignored.

_“Why are you dressed so nicely?” Mark had asked so innocently, unaware of the conversation it would trigger._

_“I have somewhere else to be.” Jinyoung had answered plainly then, busying himself with unpacking their lunch on the table._

_It had hit Mark then that Jinyoung was dressed this nicely for a reason. It was too casual to be a formal affair and Jinyoung had been… busy and avoidant. As if he was hiding something._

_“You had somewhere else to be last Thursday too. Even the Thursdays before that. As a matter of fact you’ve missed about three movie nights which is unusual for you.”_

_Jinyoung stops unpacking the bags and hesitates._

_“I have something to tell you.”_

The answer to the burning question— _Why are you dressed so nicely?_ —simple, and yet it crushed Mark’s heart.

When Jinyoung had told him he had a date, Mark snapped. It was difficult not to lash out when Jinyoung had intentionally hid from him. It was difficult not to lash out when the weight of the words _‘I’ve been dating for awhile’_ and _‘I’ve been thinking of going serious with him’_ squeezed his chest making it difficult for him to breathe. 

_“What gives you the right?” Jinyoung’s eyes are wide, pupils wavering, visibly shaking with emotions. He looked equally furious. His lips quivering. “What gives you the right to be mad? You dated. So I can date. Who do you think you are?”_

_“Now that you have a boyfriend, do I not matter?” Mark shouted, loud enough the walls around him shook._

_“How could you ev—”_

_“Just go! Don’t worry about me!”_

_Mark turned away, vision rapidly blurring as angry tears fell. He let out a silent sob, unaware of the diminishing sound of the footsteps behind him._

_Before he could take everything back, the front door slammed shut. Jinyoung had left._

Jinyoung’s voice snaps him back to the present.

“I have something to tell you,” Jinyoung begins. Mark winces. His chest hurts from just the thought of Jinyoung’s oncoming words. His instincts tell him that he should run but he can’t. Instead he braces himself for the pain. He had barely survived it the first time, but surely the second time won’t hurt. 

“For the past few weeks, I’ve been seeing someone.” Jinyoung doesn’t dare look at him, afraid of Mark’s reaction as if instinctively he knew Mark would oppose the idea. 

Mark is frustrated. The little things Jinyoung do flare up in his memories like beacon lights. The guilt in Jinyoung’s eyes, the passcodes of their birthdays, the kiss Jinyoung reciprocated, the lingering touches, the tenderness—Mark knows, for sure, that something was there.

_All these years, you had said nothing—nothing—at all._

“His name is Daejoon, and I’ve, and I’ve been—I didn’t mean to keep it from you—but I’ve been, yeah, I’ve been thinking of going serious with him.”

Mark closes his eyes, desperate to calm the raw hurt from hearing those words leave Jinyoung’s mouth. There is a fiery monstrous anger filling him but not as bad as it was the first time. Instead it's just raw pain. When the pain subsides enough that he doesn’t want to lash out, he takes a deep breath and looks at the man in front of him. The man he would inevitably love till his last breath even if he had tried not to.

The man he would love even if it was too late. 

Jinyoung worries his lips between his teeth, biting on it, sounding alarmed. “You look mad. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m really sorry, I kept it from you for so long... Are you mad?”

He desperately wants to shout at Jinyoung about how mad— _no, how hurt—_ he was. But he doesn’t because he knows that won’t end well. A shudder runs through his body at the thought of Jinyoung’s cold gaze on him, distant, after this fight. They never were the same after this fight. 

“I’m not mad.”

Jinyoung’s right eyebrow shoots up into his hairline, “You’re not?”

Mark shakes his head, taking a deep breath again, nervous energy fills him. 

“I’m just...” he falters but steadies his gaze on Jinyoung’s eyes. He briefly wonders if it would be the last he would ever have the privilege of those eyes; the ones that look at him kindly, concerned. 

“I’m just mad that the one you are dating is him… not me.”

Shock colours Jinyoung’s whole face but Mark doesn’t let it deter him, thinking about Jinyoung’s anger that night. The words that came out of Jinyoung’s mouth— _All these years, you had said nothing, nothing, at all_ —spins in his head, powering him to elaborate.

“I like you… I have always liked you, Jinyoung. _Always_.” Mark confesses. He was saying something now. He was foolish to not say it before—at his graduation, at the new year’s party, at the barbeque, or anytime even before that—but now is better than never. 

For a long moment, there is only silence. Only Mark’s heart beating loud in his eardrums, sweating profusely. He glances at Jinyoung’s face whose expression is hard, eyebrows knit, forehead wrinkled in his thoughts before he grimaces. Mark’s heart sinks. 

“What gives you the right? How could you say that right after what I just said?”

“I…” Mark begins but falls silent. The alternative to this was his anger. The tantrum he threw that had pushed Jinyoung away just as effectively. Maybe Mark should have not said anything. 

“What gives you the right, Mark Tuan?” Jinyoung shakily gets up from his seat, turning towards the door.

_Ah, so there was never a way to avoid losing you, was there?_

Panic begins to set in. If Jinyoung walks out that door, nothing will be the same again. Jinyoung would hate him. 

“No! Wait!” he cries, desperate to catch Jinyoung before he bolts. 

“What do you expect me to say to that, huh?” Jinyoung snapped, stopping in his tracks to glare at Mark, “I just told you that I was thinking of going serious with… and you just, you just, ugh—unbelievable! Do you know how selfish you’re being?”

Mark knows. But if not now, then when?

“I need time.” Jinyoung says, turning back to the door. “I need time before I can look at you. _Please just let me go_.”

Jinyoung leaves, not looking back, taking with him every ounce of happiness Mark had ever felt. As he sobs, the ring on his hand grows hot and his surroundings grow brighter. With a flash of light he was gone. 


	6. Chapter 6

#####  **YEAR -1 (21st September 2018)**

Through his tears, Mark sees that he is in his living room. His chest constricts painfully as he sob, his whole body shuddering. The ring is cold on his cheeks as he wipes away his tears. 

_ I need time before I can look at you. _

It hurts. Everything hurts. 

Jinyoung had left; again. Before Mark was oblivious to how Jinyoung would leave and things would never be the same. But now he knew how lonely it felt to live an existence without Park Jinyoung. 

His grandfather was right. **This path is harder.**

Habitually, he touches the cold band on his ring finger, confirming it’s still there. He was sitting in his favourite armchair that looked out into the city. It’s dark and cold outside, a huge contrast to the warm summer from before. The space is now filled with furniture, his belongings scattered on various surfaces. His phone sitting on the corner table next to him lights up from an incoming notification but what catches his eye is the date and time. 

_ 20:38 _

His heart clenches painfully. In just a few hours, it would be the first of Jinyoung’s birthday that they had spent apart. The first one where Jinyoung had basically pretended Mark doesn’t exist. His birthday had gone by without even a text from the other too. 

It’s been months since they have talked. Jinyoung stubbornly avoided him unless they were in a group. And Mark had been too angry to approach him. But at the stroke of midnight on the 22nd September 2018, his anger had warped into a deep-seeded regret and anguish. Mark would never forget how lonely this September night in 2018 was. 

He picks up his phone, playing with it in his hand, contemplating if he should just call Jinyoung. Wondering if it would go through—he has a feeling he’s blocked—if Jinyoung would pick up and they could possibly make up. 

_ You have nothing to lose, you’ve already lost everything.  _

Mark ignores the ache that settles in him, clicking the call button on Jinyoung’s contact number. And as he predicted it goes straight to voicemail.  _ Of course.  _

His phone chimes denoting an incoming message. 

It’s Jackson with a simple ‘ _ Are you okay? _ ’. He has a lot of unread messages. Bambam asked him if he wanted to join him and Yugyeom for some drinks at his house. Yugyeom with an almost identical message, but also offering to come over. There was also a message from Jaebeom wondering if Mark could help him listen to a song. Probably a ruse to get Mark to show himself. Youngjae had gone the simple straightforward way, expressing his concern of Mark’s well being followed by an offer to be his shoulder to lean on if needed. 

He feels heavy with their concern; one he knows they still have for him to the present day. Today more than ever because they all know how hard today would be for him to be alone. 

‘ _ Call me if you need anything _ .’ Jackson messages again, aware that Mark won’t. And yet Jackson still tries. He feels undeserving, the lump in his throat growing.

It will strike midnight and it will be another night of wallowing in his loneliness, waiting for the minutes to pass by and the ring to bring him elsewhere. Wherever it will bring him probably would be worse than where he is now. But at least, he can see Jinyoung. 

Even if Jinyoung won’t not face him, at least Jinyoung will be  _ there.  _ Eventually they are cordial,  _ awkward when left alone,  _ but not hostile. Jinyoung refuses to meet his eye but this gaping absence of Jinyoung on his birthday hurts him. He just wants to see Jinyoung. Even if it means from afar. 

He wants to be there for Jinyoung. The way he has been by Jinyoung’s side since they were children. Even if that meant they wouldn’t end up together. He wants to be there, next to Jinyoung; where he belongs. 

But most of all, now he wants to look at Jinyoung and tell him  _ Happy Birthday _ the way he has done for all the years they had known each other. 

He looks at his phone —  _21:13_ . It’s not too late. 

Mark dials the number without much more thought. Relieved that the answer comes almost immediately. 

“Jackson,” he hates to be curt but it’s urgent, “Where is Jinyoung?”

-o0o-

It’s ridiculous that when Jackson had told him that Jinyoung’s at his parent’s place, he had decided to run the whole way. It’s worse because on his 20-minute race on foot to Jinyoung’s parent’s place, it starts pouring rain.

_ Damn, this rain! _

But his legs carry him, one in front of the other, oblivious to the eyes that follow him as he sprints through the neighbourhood. Adrenaline pumps through his blood blocking out the exhaustion until he stands at the front door of Park Jinyoung’s childhood home. 

He rings the bell without hesitation, suddenly anxious that his opportunity has passed and Jinyoung was on the way back to his own place. There is a rustle behind the door before the door opens slightly, revealing a shocked Mrs. Park. 

It is then that Mark remembers that he’s standing at Mrs. Park’s front door late at night, soaked all the way through, Mrs. Park lets out an audible gasp then a series of exclamations that result in her shoving him inside, leaving him standing alone in the hallway before returning with dry towels. 

“Oh my dear boy, are you out of your mind? You’re shivering!” she wraps him in one of the warm towels, handing him another one as she uses the last one to dry his hair. Mrs. Park is significantly shorter so Mark has no choice but to bow as she dries him. 

Mark can’t help the chuckle that leaves him at Mrs. Park’s actions. It feels like he’s once again a high school student who she used to take care of. 

When she is satisfied with Mark’s state of dryness, she shakes her head at him, disapproving. “Aigoo! What were you thinking running in the rain like that? You could’ve gotten sick!” 

Mark just smiles at her; happy that despite the years of not seeing each other the warmth was still evident in her tone.

“Jinyoung didn’t tell me that you were coming. He should have mentioned!” Mark could already hear her preparing the scolding she would later convey to her dear son. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know.” 

“Is it a surprise?” she chuckles, amusement glinting in her eyes. “How sweet.”

“Come on then, let’s go see them.” she says leading them inside. It has been ages since Mark has been in Jinyoung’s childhood home. Not much has changed besides the arrangement of some furniture, or the pictures in frames that now include Jinyoung’s and his siblings' graduation photos. 

On a drawer at the edge of the living room which they pass as they head to the dining room is a photo of young Jinyoung and Mark in a three-legged race in middle school. Both of their faces were wrinkled with focus and determination to win. Mark doesn’t remember if they won, he just remembers Jinyoung complaining about how Mark was going too fast and his leg hurt trying to keep up.

“Oh, Mark! Long time no see!” Mr. Park’s voice booms through the hallway when he sees Mark through the archway from where he’s sitting at the dining table. Mark can’t see anyone else but Mr. Park but he realizes he’s intruding on Jinyoung’s family dinner—one that would likely include  _ his boyfriend.  _

But as he walks through the archway into the dining room, Mark sees—Mr. Park, Jinyoung and his sister, Sooyoung. No Daejoon in sight. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” 

Jinyoung eyes are comically wide, jaw dropped. Mark can’t help but laugh at his shock. Something about seeing Jinyoung’s genuine shock—a contrast to the indifference he usually feigns—warms his heart and fills him with glee.

“Happy birthday, Park Jinyoung!” he says, smiling brightly. 

“He came here for your birthday! Why are you so ungrateful?” Mrs. Park smacks Jinyoung’s arm, chastising, “Help him find a change of clothes, Jinyoung. He is drenched.”

Mark follows Jinyoung who stands and leaves without even checking if Mark is following. Jinyoung leads him to his childhood bedroom. In middle school, they had sleepovers at each other's house every other weekend; just the two of them before high school and before they inevitably became close to the rest of their friends. They’ve been close, always. 

But sometimes this closeness is exactly why he had taken their relationship for granted. Mark was always the one next to Jinyoung. Until he wasn’t. 

Mark stands in the doorway as Jinyoung starts rummaging through his cupboard. He has a frown on his face as he pulls out an outfit for Mark. When he finds what he was looking for, he turns and gives Mark a stern look. 

This time Mark does not laugh. Nothing is funny when Jinyoung looks like he was about to kill him. He wouldn’t though, not with his family just in the dining room,  _ right _ ?

“I’ll just go change,” he mutters, a little panicked that he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Previously, he had let this night pass by without even a message to Jinyoung. Obviously, Jinyoung is not taking him showing up to his home well. The last time he had talked to him he had said...

_ I need time before I can look at you. Please just let me go. _

Maybe Mark should just leave. He had said happy birthday but before he can turn away Jinyoung grabs his wrist. His grip is a tad bit too strong. 

“What were you thinking? Do you not have an umbrella?” 

_ I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to see you.  _

“What makes you think you can just show up whenever you feel like it?” Jinyoung spits, words slicing through Mark’s feelings like a sword. Pain blooms in his chest. 

“I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Was I supposed to just let this day pass without at least trying to say happy birthday?”

Jinyoung doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, he stares at the floorboards. 

“I would have just called but for some reason I can’t call you,” Mark jokes but it’s all watery and bitter, all wrong.

“I’m not here to try and break you up with Daejoon.”  _ Even if I want to.  _ “I’m not here to get you to accept my feelings…” Mark sighs, dejected. Jinyoung has made it clear. He loves Daejoon. He had picked Daejoon over him and he would continue to. 

“I’m just here because when midnight comes you’ll be a year older and I can’t shake this feeling that if this year was going to be the year I miss out on celebrating your birthday, there would be many more years to come where it passes by like it's nothing, like it’s just a normal day. And I just couldn’t live with myself like that,”  _ because you mean the world to me,  _ goes unsaid. 

Jinyoung stares at him, eyes wide but betraying nothing else. His eyes waver, as if he was about to break down and cry, but Jinyoung stood there frozen just staring at him. 

“I know you asked for space and time and it’s been… a few months… and maybe you need more? More time? And I’m sorry, I came without asking. I shouldn’t have assumed it was okay for me to just, to, um, to just come over unannounced…” Mark rambles, desperate to fill in the awkward silence. 

Jinyoung clears his throat before shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. You should, you know, get changed.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll ju-just, um, go.”

-o0o-

It takes a moment for him to dry off all the rain but eventually he leaves the bathroom, flushing for good measure. He heads for the dining room but instinct leads him to Jinyoung's room. 

Jinyoung is still there. 

He sits on his bed, staring at something in his hands. When Mark stands too long in the doorway, Jinyoung looks up and his face lights up with a tentative smile, gesturing for Mark to come closer. 

When Mark approaches, Jinyoung turns the sealed plain white envelope in his hands, staring at it as if it held a significance that only he could see. He is too far in thought and for a long second Mark stands awkwardly in front of Jinyoung. Mark clears his throat, attempting to break the tension, and it snaps Jinyoung out of his thoughts. 

“Sit down.”

Mark sits beside him on the bed, contemplating on pulling the chair from the study table but ultimately deciding against it. The mattress dips as he sits down but Jinyoung gives him an unwavering stare. Mark dares not to break the silence again. Something tells him it’s his turn to listen. Jinyoung inhales deeply, releasing it in a sigh. 

“Here.” 

Jinyoung hands the sealed envelope to him and stands up.

“I wanted to give it to you before we entered high school but I got scared.” 

Jinyoung chuckles shallowly, staring forward as he spoke, carefully avoiding Mark’s gaze.

“Then, I promised myself that I would give it to you on your 20th birthday... but you were in a relationship and I couldn’t. So, I thought, when you broke up... but I didn’t. Time passed and here we are. I’ve held on to this letter for all those years wondering when...” 

Jinyoung finally turns to look at him, his expression solemn. 

“As years passed, I wondered if I should give it to you at all. I probably thought too deeply about it,” Jinyoung chuckles again, the sound mechanical, cold. He stares at the envelope in Mark’s hands for a long moment before he meets Mark’s eyes, “It’s stupid but all those years, I kept thinking about this letter. But recently, I wanted to stop just... just thinking. I wanted to just  _ do…  _ so, this is me doing what I should’ve done years ago. The me that wrote that letter, the me that held on to it thinking I would eventually give it to you—I want to put him in the past. I don’t want to be the person who just thinks about doing something but never doing it.” 

“Jin–”

“Daejoon asked me to marry him.”

Mark almost drops the envelope in his hands. He knew and yet...

“When he asked me, I said I want to think about it but I’ve been thinking, calculating and contemplating all my life. For once, I wanted to just  _ do it _ .”

Jinyoung turns to him, his words resolute. “I wanted to properly face Daejoon and I’ve decided that... I want to say yes. I don’t want to be the fool who thinks too much and holds on to stupid things. I want to change and move forward.”

“Isn’t that a stupid reason to accept a proposal?”

Jinyoung cocks an eyebrow at him and purses his lips, then slowly shakes his head. “That’s not the only reason. Daejoon is… forthright. He can’t keep his emotions hidden and tells it with absolute honesty.” Jinyoung chuckles, fondly. Mark hates it.

“Maybe it’s something I should learn from him; being honest like that,” Jinyoung smiles but it only just stabs the already gaping wound in Mark’s chest even further. 

“I’m sorry I got mad at you that time.”

Mark scrambles to think of which time—there are plenty—but immediately knows it’s when Jinyoung had told him about his secret boyfriend.

“I had decided to go steady with Daejoon and you...” he gives Mark a meaningful look. “I wavered. At that moment, I thought of this letter that I still haven’t given to you. This letter I kept for all these years… It won’t happen again.” he says resolute, meeting Mark’s eye. “This version of me from the past, I’m handing it over to you. Please take care of him.” 

Jinyoung smiles and does a little bow. He then turns leaving Mark to inspect the envelope which Jinyoung had kept for years and years. In a neat script, Mark recognizes Jinyoung’s handwriting. 

  
  
  
  


_ To: Mark _

  
  


Mark carefully opens the envelope and it’s the first time his eyes have laid on the plain white paper and Jinyoung’s handwriting in green ink. Mark smiles at the thought of Jinyoung’s favourite green pen that he used to treasure in school. 

  
  
  
  


_ Dear Mark,  _

_ It must be weird to get a letter from me but it is the last day of school and we will be going to high school soon! I hope we both end up in the same school. Even though I complained about having to see your face again… actually, it would be sad if we are not in the same high school.  _

_ I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m scared that we might not be in the same school. For some reason, the thought of not seeing your face everyday is just… terrible.  _

_ Mark, you have been my friend since the first day. You have always been the person next to me. The person who is most important to Park Jinyoung will always be Mark Tuan.  _

_ But why is it so hard for me to talk to you honestly? I get nervous that you will move away but complain that I see your face everyday. I hate it when you go somewhere without me but complain that you ask me to follow you.  _

_ With you, until now, I simply cannot be honest, even if it pains me. But maybe today I should start.  _

_ Mark is someone I have always loved. _

_ Mark is someone I really love.  _

_ With love,  _

_ Jinyoung.  _

  
  
  


Mark’s hands shake, reading and rereading the short letter. Jinyoung had intended to give it to him before high school. This confession of his feelings, the feelings that Mark shared with him. 

His mind whirs to the words Jinyoung had told him that night. The night before he had somehow managed to find himself back in the past. Jinyoung had said,  _ All these years, you had said nothing—nothing—at all. _

Since highschool, Jinyoung had been waiting and Mark was just too blind to see. What use was this information that Jinyoung had liked him if Jinyoung was going to accept Daejoon’s proposal?

How was Mark sitting here in the past but unable to stop Jinyoung marrying another man?

He wants to shout, rip the letter, punch the nearest surface. It was unfair and he was angry, anguished, and frustrated. Jinyoung loved Daejoon and would never pick Mark over him. This letter itself was that proof. 

All Mark can do is hold on to Jinyoung for as long as he can. Because at least Jinyoung was in his life right? 

His heart throbs from the pain; folding the letter, he pockets it. He has a birthday dinner to attend. 

-o0o-

“Let’s have a toast,” Mr. Park beams, holding up his wine glass. They were huddled in the living room, wine glasses in hand. The rest of dinner had gone by in a haze. Jinyoung refused to look at him, carrying on in the same air of indifference Mark was used to. 

He can see now it was a facade. Something that Jinyoung used to hold back; to hide behind. Something that the  _ new  _ Park Jinyoung was.

“To my boy!” Mr. Park cheers, raising his glass. His eyes glint at Jinyoung who smiles widely. It’s a beautiful smile that Mark only hopes will be directed to him. But he was too late, wasn’t he? 

“Happy 25th birthday, my son.” Mrs. Park adds. 

“Happy birthday, you lil brat!” Jinyoung’s sister says, patting Jinyoung’s arm. Jinyoung smiles at her. 

Suddenly everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. The only person who was not looking at him was Jinyoung.

“Happy birthday, Park Jinyoung. I’m so glad you were born and came into my life.”

Jinyoung lifts his head, frowning. Mark doesn’t get it but Mr. Park was clapping his back, too joyful as his son looked increasingly dejected. 

And then the ring heats up and everything becomes too bright. The last thing Mark sees is the sad look in Jinyoung’s eyes. 


	7. Chapter 7

_ The most bitter taste _  
_ Is that hint of a life _  
_ You could’ve lived _  
_ If only _ —   
~ _ d.j _

-o0o-

****

#####  **YEAR -1 (2nd December 2018)**

  
  


He’s drunk. His world is tilting on its axis, from right to left to right again. He grapples on the door latch struggling to open it. It’s a stall door it seems. Based on the way the sounds of his failed attempts of unlatching the door echo, he is in some sort of public toilet. 

His head hits the door and he lets out a curse.

“Mark?” 

He lets out another curse as he re-attempts to unlatch the stall door in front of him. It unlatches and he falls forwards right into Yugyeom’s arms. 

“Holy shit, you’re completely drunk!”

_ Yes, yes, I am drunk. Fuck! Where am I? _

“Damn man, I hate to be the guy who nags but this really isn’t the place to get trashed.” Yugyeom winces at the sight of him, concerned. 

_ I know _ .

He stumbles towards the marble countertop, leaning on it with his arms stretched to his sides. The tinge of yellow from the fluorescent lights above him makes his reflection look sickly. He was in a formal suit, hair still heavily styled despite being slightly askew thanks to his fight with the stall door, and leather boots. He knows exactly where he is. 

It wasn’t hard to guess, only one occasion checked all the boxes—formal dress, extremely drunk, fancy public toilet with marble counter, a worried Yugyeom. The only thing that was missing was an angry Jinyoung but he was sure it was only a matter of time.

Jinyoung’s engagement party. 

The second worst day of his whole existence. The first being Jinyoung walking out of his life that day they fought. 

The memory of the fight is still fresh. It had just happened,  _ no, not really _ , but it had just happened for him. Mark sighs aloud, slumping further into the marble countertops.

“Are you okay, Mark?” Yugyeom asks. He is all riddled with concern, forehead wrinkled, expression troubled. Mark’s heart aches. He was not worthy of Yugyeom’s concern. He was drunk, and  _ too late— _ always too late.

“It’s a little difficult seeing your first love getting hitched with another man. I really don’t recommend it.” he deadpanned, ignoring the pang of self-pity that overwhelms him. He was aiming for sarcasm but the look of pity Yugyeom gives him is discouraging. 

_ Fuck!  _ He feels pathetic. He wants to just slump into the floor and disappear. Jinyoung had loved him. Mark had loved him all his life but it was too late. 

Mark shakes all his thoughts away. He should focus on the present. Well, the present of which he was currently having to go through.  _ Damn this stupid firefly ring! _

“So, uh, have I vomited on Jinyoung’s shoes yet?” Mark slurs at Yugyeom who was rubbing his back with his palm as if he could massage all the alcohol out of his system through physical touch. Maybe he was just trying to console him. Mark can’t tell.

“WHAT? Vo-vomit?” 

Mark chuckles, “Not yet then?”

“Why? Are you planning to?”

Yugyeom’s forehead seems to shrink into more wrinkles. He must think Mark is going insane. Mark probably is but that’s beside the point. 

“Holy shit,  _ NO _ ! Whatever it takes, under no circumstance WHATSOEVER, you must make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Yugyeom nods and Mark reaches for the tap, splashes his face with water. He doesn’t care if his hair is messed up or his suit was damp from water. He needed to sober up and fast because if his memory served him right, Jinyoung would ap—

“WHAT THE FUCK, MARK TUAN!” 

_ Ah… _ just as Mark had remembered. 

“Who do you think you are?” Jinyoung shouts as he stomps his way to Mark, looking like he’s either going to punch him in the face or glare at him until he is reduced to ashes. Either way, it does not look good for Mark. “Just who do you think you are?”

He tries to remember what he had done wrong but can’t seem to. His alcohol addled brain was slow, all he remembers is being drunk, vomitting on Jinyoung shoes, making loud, obnoxious and inappropriate responses to congratulatory speeches, and— _ oh, fuck _ —grilling Jinyoung’s fiance with insulting questions. 

“Daejoon told me about what you said. I made him tell it to me word by word.”

Mark cringes. He was sure at some point he had declared that no one on earth knew Jinyoung the way he did, in front of the whole party. All behind Jinyoung’s back. 

“HA HA... You think you know me best?”

“Jinyoung...” Yugyeom whispers, begging Jinyoung to stop but he marches on.

“You, who was there from the very start, but can’t even stay sober enough for his ‘closest’ friend’s engagement party? Please...” he scoffs, disgusted. “Don’t you dare pretend you’re close to me when you barely look me in the eye.”

Jinyoung is fuming, chest puffed, rising and falling to the fast beat of his breaths, containing his anger and disgust. “You’re nothing, you hear me, nothing to me.”

Mark shrinks away, frustration building but he’s drunk and unable to do anything about it. Yugyeom, however, was more than capable.

“Jinyoung!” Yugyeom cries. “STOP IT! That’s too much!”

“Stay out of this!” Jinyoung glares. 

“NO!” Yugyeom stands between them, acting like a barrier for Mark. “That’s enough!”

“You guys have been fighting for so long and I know Mark pretends that he is okay. But he  _ isn’t _ . He’s going through a hard time. And you’re being too harsh.” Yugyeom glares at Jinyoung who only glares back. “I know you’re mad right now and you don’t mean everything you just said. But it needs to stop.”

Mark doesn’t remember this part from the past. The part that Yugyeom saves him from slaughter. Did he vomit before this could happen before? Or has the present changed?

The door of the restroom opens slightly revealing Jackson’s head. His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as he looks at Mark, then at Jinyoung, and then at Yugyeom. The tension in the room is palpable but Jackson continues smiling as he calls for Yugyeom. “Yugyeom, JB is looking for you.”

Yugyeom turns to him, as if asking if Mark is ok. Mark nods. Yugyeom has done enough. Yugyeom leaves with Jackson and silence fills the restroom. 

Jinyoung pretends to adjust the cuffs of his suit while Mark stares at the gritty tiles, wondering if it was clean enough to lay on. All the alcohol has not left his system. 

Jinyoung is first to break the silence, clearing his throat. Mark definitely knows this part did not happen before. He was sure Jinyoung was mid-tantrum when Mark had hurled his insides on his shoes. 

“I can’t believe you got drunk.” Jinyoung says, more to himself rather than at him. 

“Not my best decision to be honest,” Mark smirks. Jinyoung smiles at him, amused. Mark aches from missing it; aches from feeling like he will never make Jinyoung smile like that.

“I’m still mad at you.” Jinyoung catches himself, fixing his expression to a pout, crossing his arms for added effect. He isn’t mad. 

“You can be mad at me when I vomit on you later.”

Jinyoung's eyes twinkle with more amusement, laughter at the brim of his words. It’s a beautiful, wondrous thing. It hurts, it really does. “Is that your plan to ruin the party? Vomit on me?”

“Will it work?” 

Jinyoung shakes his head, turning red with laughter. His eyes crinkling, clutching his stomach.

“Doesn’t hurt to try, right?” Mark adds. Jinyoung clutches the marble counter for support, losing his breath to laughter. It has a dizzying effect on Mark or maybe that’s the alcohol. Mark can’t tell any longer. 

“Ha ha, don’t you dare, Mark Tuan.” He gives Mark a warning glare but it's all soft and fond. Mark hates himself because here was Jinyoung laughing with him in the restroom at his engagement party. With all the things he knows now, from the past or from the future, and yet, Park Jinyoung is still so…  _ unattainable. _

_ Always so close and yet so far.  _

“This is really tiring,” Mark sighs, the weight of the pain in his chest was overflowing. “It hurts so much.”

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow in question, a frown etched deep into his cheeks. 

“Are you happy with him?”

Jinyoung hesitates before he nods. That one hurt. Mark tries his best to smile but Jinyoung only frowns back. Jinyoung is worried about him. 

But Jinyoung would always choose Daejoon over him. 

“You should go back.”

“I’m...” Jinyoung falters but Mark is stumbling to the nearest toilet stall. His vision warping as he stumbles. Jinyoung tries to help him but he stops him. 

“You should really go before I really do vomit on you.” he groans, glancing sternly at the other for good measure. Jinyoung shouldn’t be here. “Go!”

Jinyoung looks conflicted for a moment but then he turns on his feet and walks out, choosing Daejoon over him once again. 

Mark’s chest hurts, full with regret and heartbreak. He falls to his feet, kneeling into the toilet bowl and lets it all out. 

Now, he is hollow. 

He lets his cheek rest on the toilet seat, head too heavy to hold up, and spots the ring still sitting on his finger. 

“This is all your fault, little buddy.” he croaks, turning his hand in mid air. The way the yellow fluorescent lights bounce against the yellow stone etched into the ring makes it look nauseating. Like the yellow of his vomit flushed down the drain. Like the way his life is in ruins. 

He had his chance to confess to Jinyoung—no, he had more than one chance—he had chances. He could have told Jinyoung he liked him on that rooftop on their graduation day. 

He could have told Jinyoung they should date after that New Year’s kiss. 

He should have told Jinyoung how much he treasured Jinyoung at the barbeque. 

No. Instead he had let his life run its course and told Jinyoung he liked him when Daejoon was already there. When Jinyoung had already chosen Daejoon over him. 

There was no use of him going back into the past because Jinyoung would never choose him. He feels mad with anger and suddenly he doesn't want the ring anymore. He doesn’t want to feel its cold metal on his flesh. He just wanted it all off, away, gone. 

He grips the metal and turns it but the ring turns hot. 

“TAKE IT BACK!” he groans in pain from the scorching heat. “I DON’T WANT IT!”

The ring shines, blinding light that turns the whole restroom into nothing but whiteness. 

“Argh!” Mark heaves a groan, pulling the scorching metal off of his finger. With a clang it drops on the tiles of the floor but Mark is exhausted. 

He slumps on the floor and closes his eyes. 

-o0o-

“Mark?”

Jackson knew it was a bad idea to leave just the two of them alone in the restroom but they needed to talk it out. He just wanted to give them a chance but now Mark was missing. He was nowhere to be found in the event hall and he wasn’t terrorizing the guests or the groom. 

He checks the restroom where he had initially found them, hoping Mark had been hiding in here for the past hour. 

It’s empty. 

_ ~ 생각이 나, 또 생각이 나 ~ _

His phone echoes in the empty walls of the restroom. It was likely Yugyeom asking for an update but he can wait. 

_ ~너의 모습이, 계속 생각이 나~ _

“Fuck,” he groans. Where could he be?

_ ~텅 빈 머리에 반복되는 건 너, _

_ 잊지 못해 널~ _

In his state of drunkenness it would be hard to find him. Mark was impulsive and Jackson wouldn’t put it past him to grab a cab to Incheon airport or something. They were screwed. 

He pushes open all the stall doors even if they were likely empty just for the sake of it. Yep, no luck. 

Mark wasn’t here. 

_ ~시간이 갈수록 더 빠져들어 가 _

**_I'm stuck in a trance_ **

_ 어디로 못 가~ _

He stands in front of the last empty stall, frustrated and annoyed that his phone won’t shut up. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he slams the answer button. 

“WHAT?” Jackson growls. 

“He’s with me.” Yugyeom says from across the line, annoyed. “If you would just pick up, you would’ve known earlier.”

“Where did you find him?” Jackson sighs in relief. 

“He was sleeping in the car. Or maybe he passed out. I’m not sure. I’m bringing him home now.”

Jackson can feel his shoulders relax as Yugyeom assures him he would take care of the very drunk Mark and hangs up. 

Just as he turns to leave he spots his untied shoes. Kneeling, careful not to tip over, he ties them. It is then he sees it. 

A silver ring. 

He picks it up and inspects it. It was a simple, silver band. Someone from the wedding must have dropped it and must be looking for it. 

Jackson turns it in his fingers and finds an inscription.

His mind flashes to Jinyoung’s birthday months ago when Mark had called him…

_ “Where is Jinyoung?” the urgency in Mark’s voice had startled him.  _

_ “He said he would be celebrating his birthday with his parents. Probably at his parents’ place. Why?” When Mark doesn’t answer, Jackson’s worried that Mark has gone in his head again. “Mark? Are you okay?” _

_ “I need to tell him.”  _

_ “Tell him what?” The line went dead.  _

He had later heard from Jinyoung that Mark had shown up to his parents’ house drenched and told him happy birthday. He thinks back to the look Mark had given Yugyeom when he was about to leave, wondering if that look had the same urgency as the Mark who had called him that time long ago. 

He pockets the ring, pondering on if it was his place to say anything; wondering if he had sat back watching two of his best friends fight their own feelings for too long. 


	8. Chapter 8

_ I remember and remember again  _  
_ I keep on thinking images of you  _   
_ In my empty head the only thing that’s repeating is you  _   
_ Can’t forget about you  _   
_ The more time passes by  _   
_ I fall for you more  _   
**_I’m stuck in a trance_ **   
_ Can’t go anywhere… _   
_ ~Higher, GOT7 _

-o0o-

####  **[ PREVIOUSLY ]**

#####  **1st September 2019; 7.08 p.m.**

“Glad you could make it.” Jinyoung stood from across the table, extending his hand in a rather formal gesture. Mark blinked at Jinyoung’s hand, shaking it a beat too late, feeling awkward. His eyes rove around his unfamiliar surroundings—linen table clothes set with shiny cutlery, lavish decorations, fresh flowers tucked in the restaurant corners. 

He was severely underdressed. 

When Jinyoung had called him this afternoon with an invite for dinner, he had thought it would be something casual. Jinyoung had said,  _ there is a restaurant on the first floor of Ahn Hotel,  _ and Mark had thought none of it. He carefully picked out a relatively new denim jacket and a plain black turtleneck thinking that he didn’t want to make it seem like he made an effort. 

But now he looked like he made no effort at all. 

Jinyoung sat back into his chair, fully suited. He’s in a grey three piece suit, complete with a matching tie. His hair was heavily styled, each piece of hair held into place with some form of hair gel. His belt was exactly the same leather as his shoes. A polite smile was etched on his face, a cold, distant one. Something tells him whatever Jinyoung wanted to tell him tonight, he would not like it. 

Despite his instincts to just head back out, he took a seat and allowed the waiter to place a napkin on his lap like a seat belt locking him to his chair. He could not leave now. 

Jinyoung made a show of ordering. His tone was a tad bit decisive, sounding slightly unnatural as he asked for a good bottle of wine. When Jinyoung asked if he should order for Mark, Mark nodded along not wanting to interrupt the weird tango of an eager-to-please waiter and an eager-to-fit-in Jinyoung. 

When he had ordered, Jinyoung puffed his chest and slanted his eyes to Mark. It was only then Mark understood. Jinyoung was setting the pieces on his chessboard: the sudden invitation was his pawn, the suit he wore like an armor was his knight, the fancy restaurant his rook, the display of belonging was his bishop and finally, blindsiding Mark was his queen. The way he was looking at Mark right now wasn’t of a good old get-together between childhood friends. He did not set it up to clear the air or make amends. No. Jinyoung was here for the war he had set in motion. 

Mark just didn't get the memo. 

“Congratulations on your wedding.” Mark said, struggling not to say it between gritted teeth.

“I’m not married yet.” Jinyoung fiddled with the shiny gold cufflinks on his right wrist, locking his gaze on Mark. It’s a nervous tell, the tiny cracks of his armor. And then his expression went blank, all emotions tucked aside, opening his mouth to speak. “Not until tomorrow.”

And wasn’t it weird that Jinyoung had invited him for dinner a night before his wedding? Shouldn’t he be wrapped up in preparations? Shouldn’t he be spending this night with his fiance?

Mark should have known. 

“Why did you call me out here?”

“It’s been too long—”

“No! Don’t insult me by lying!” Mark thumped his fist on the table. Jinyoung looked stunned, mouth agape, eyes wide. Clearly this was not part of his gameplan. 

“Why did you call me out for dinner the evening before your wedding?” Mark asked seriously. There was a pain from the deep part of his chest that reignited at the mention of Jinyoung’s impending wedding; tomorrow. 

“I, I just wanted to talk,” Jinyoung stammered.

“About what?” 

“I know it’s been difficult for you to see me… Ever since Daejoon, we haven’t been… close.” Jinyoung looked at the table in front of him, fingers fiddling with his cufflinks again. “And, um, after the engagement party, you know, I just wasn’t sure.”

_ So you wanted me to come here? So I could what? Get mad at you so you could uninvite me? _

Mark stared at Jinyoung, in his grey suit, the lavishly decorated restaurant they sat in, and the ghost of a polite smile Jinyoung had extended to him when he got here; and suddenly he felt mad, betrayed. Jinyoung had trapped him. 

“This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have come.” Mark said, standing, feeling like he couldn’t get out fast enough. 

“No wait. Hang on! Don’t just leave!” Jinyoung cried, scraping the floor as he stood too fast. 

“Congratulations on your wedding.” Mark retorted, fuming. But he turned away, swallowing hard, a lump forming in his throat at Jinyoung’s shell-shocked expression.

As he marched away, raw pain filled his chest, his throat clamming up and the urge to just scream or cry overwhelmed him. He only felt like he could breath when he stepped out into the autumn wind and the slowly darkening skies. 

But he didn’t stop walking, knocking into pedestrians with mumbled apologies trailing him. He needed to just walk it off, this pain in his chest. He knew Jinyoung was getting married tomorrow. He had known it for months. They had gotten engaged in December of last year. 

So why did it still hurt so much? Shouldn’t it have healed at least a bit by now?

“Mark.”

A hand on his shoulder forced him to turn to find a heavily panting Jinyoung, struggling to catch his breath. 

_ He came after me.  _

“You should go back,” were the words that left Mark’s mouth even if his heart was thumping fast in his chest. 

Jinyoung was holding onto his knees, taking deep breaths before raising his head, pushing the hair off his forehead, ruffling his styled hair. The gesture shouldn’t have made his heartbeat quicken but it did.  _ Fuck! _

“Just listen to me, please,” Jinyoung begged, short of breath.

“I hear you loud and clear. You don’t need to repeat yourself.” A little ember of anger lit up within him, dimming slightly at the way Jinyoung’s hair fell around his face, but not diminishing it. 

“Please…” Jinyoung looked as if he would kneel if he needed to. 

“If you wanted to— _ I don’t know _ —uninvite me to your wedding or something—”

“Uninvite you?”

“—you could have just, just told me on the phone, you know? You didn’t need to put up a whole show.”

“Woah, woah… hang on. What do you mean, uninvite you? What show?”

“The fancy restaurant? This suit?” Mark asked, tone growing increasingly wild. “This forced formality… it’s not who we are.”

Jinyoung stared at his feet, seemingly caught. Mark's shoulders slumped, anger dissipating as he watched Jinyoung grow increasingly defeated. Clearly, there was something more, something that Jinyoung isn’t saying.

“What is it?” Jinyoung blinked at Mark’s question, looking confused. “Something is bothering you, isn’t it?”

Jinyoung glanced side to side at the people passing by, his expression growing worried. 

“Let’s go,” Mark said, grabbing Jinyoung’s wrist and pulling him along. He tried to ignore the tingling feeling he got from how it feels to hold Jinyoung's hand again and lead Jinyoung to somewhere less public.

-o0o-

They ended up in Mark’s apartment, on the floor rather than on couches. At first, conversation was stilted but Mark kept the beer flowing and slowly, Mark started to relax. It felt like the past year had disappeared and it was just another pizza night with just the two of them. They carefully avoided talking about themselves, instead bouncing funny stories and anecdotes about their friends. 

Jinyoung’s eyes crinkled as he laughed, loud and hearty, the sound booming in his chest, unrestrained. Something about it, that happiness Jinyoung had deprived him of all this while, made Mark feel light. As if the waves of Jinyoung’s happiness made him happy. He ached from how much he had missed it. 

“—thinking Yugyeom would have my back was my mistake. Mark, are you listening?”

“Huh?” 

“We only had a bit to drink. Are you that drunk?” Jinyoung said, smiling softly. Mark wondered if one can die from loving someone. It sure felt like it. 

Mark laid his head on the dining table in front of him and Jinyoung laid his warm palm on his head, running his fingers in his hair. Mark allowed himself to lean into the touch, closing his eyes. Some part of him wanted to cry of happiness. He didn’t want this to ever end. 

But things rarely do end up the way he wanted it to.

“I’m sorry things happened the way they did,” Jinyoung whispered, still playing with Mark’s hair at the tip of his fingers. “I didn’t mean to break us apart.”

Mark shifted his head, resting his chin on the fold of his arm, looking directly at Jinyoung’s regretful expression. He wanted to say that it was his fault too. That he had gotten mad and done crazy things like vomit on Jinyoung’s shoes at his engagement party. But he knew somewhere within him that even if he went back in the past, he would have done the same thing. 

As long as the one Jinyoung was going to marry wasn’t Mark. 

Because wasn’t this what it was all about? How he had loved Jinyoung all his life but only realized it when another man came into the picture? How he had thought the one who would always be by Jinyoung’s side was him; until it wasn’t. Instead, it was Daejoon. 

“Do you not want me there tomorrow?”

Jinyoung stared at him but didn’t answer. Whatever it was that Jinyoung wanted he wasn’t telling him. 

“Why did you want to see me tonight?” he straightened up, eyebrow furrowing. 

Jinyoung shifted, picking up his phone from the side of the table, looking at it then seemed to make a decision—or rather an excuse. “It’s getting late, I should go.”

Mark watched Jinyoung get to his feet, wondering if he should stop him. If it would make any difference. If it would help him get what he truly wanted. 

Before he could come to a decision his reflexes caught Jinyoung’s hand, stopping him from leaving. A panicked expression coloured Jinyoung’s face, his head bowed away from Mark’s view. 

“I should—”

“What are you hiding from me, Park Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered with nerves, caught. Mark tugged his hand, coaxing Jinyoung to look at him. Their eyes finally met and Mark could see whatever Jinyoung wanted to say in protest was lost, his guard lowered. 

“Talk to me.”

Jinyoung’s frown deepened. He shook his head, refusing to talk. He pushed Mark’s hand away but didn't turn to leave just yet. 

“Just tell me why you would ask to meet me. Tonight of all nights.” Mark demanded, rising to Jinyoung’s level. His tone was harsher than he intended. “The night before your wedding because it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I really, really need to go,” Jinyoung heaved. He reached for the door knob. 

Anger stirred within him, frustration building, with the knowledge that Jinyoung was holding something back from him. His instincts told him it was important.

“I don’t understand how you could ignore me for months after hiding him from me and then you call me out of the blue, the night before your wedding.” Mark let out a frustrated growl, temper rising. He glared at Jinyoung who’s frozen at the door, unmoving. When Jinyoung didn’t respond, the fire of his anger turned into something worse, something ugly, something that made him want Jinyoung to feel the hurt he was feeling. 

“Tell me Jinyoung. Did you come here to rub it in my face? That you’re fine without me and you can continue living with no regrets without me by your side?”

Jinyoung turned, expression thunderous, jaw clenched. But still he says nothing. 

“You know what I think? I think you’re scared. You’re scared that Daejoon isn’t the man you want to marry. You’re scared that the one you want isn’t him at all, no, the man you want… it’s me, isn’t it?” Mark looked at him, breathing labored. “Isn’t that why you are here instead of there with him?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened slightly, jaw slackening before he fixed it into a stern expression.

“Shut up!” Jinyoung hissed. “I don’t need to hear this from you!”

Mark scoffed, about to retort but Jinyoung doesn’t give him a chance. He left, slamming the door behind him. Mark’s ears rang from the volume of it and then the eerie silence that followed. And then the realization of his words, the ugliness of his anger dissipating, leaving behind a bitter taste in his mouth, and the shattered pieces of his heart. 

He groaned at the pang of regret overwhelming him. How could he say that? He had to make it right again. 

So he ran—out his door, along the hallway, stabbing the elevator buttons willing it to come faster then stabbing it again hoping it’ll move faster, but it didn’t—right into the arms of a thunderstorm. It was raining heavily but he paid it no mind, running into the general direction of the hotel, praying that Jinyoung didn’t take a cab. 

He crossed a car park and saw the silhouette of a person, knowing immediately it’s Jinyoung. 

He ran, circling his arms around Jinyoung’s middle, holding him close to his chest. He let out a loud sob into Jinyoung’s shoulder, relief and regret overwhelming him. Rain pelting heavier on their attached form. 

“Don’t go, Jinyoung! Don’t marry him.” Mark mumbled against the soaked grey blazer on Jinyoung’s back. 

Jinyoung grunted, shoving his right shoulder into Mark’s middle, successfully escaping his grip. He turned, looking down at Mark who fell ass first on the ground, pools of water splashing. 

“Don’t say it just to say it!” Jinyoung spluttered, tears mixing with the rain that soaked his once pristine grey suit. All of his armour that he worked so hard to perfect before was washed away by the rain. “Don’t say anything you don’t mean!”

Mark stood up and took a step closer, shouting at the top of his lungs, “but I mean it!”   
  


Jinyoung’s mouth twitched into an unkind smirk, scoffing at Mark’s words. 

“All these years, you had said nothing—nothing—at all. Suddenly, you think you have a chance and you just jump right in?” He looked away, seeming to hold in more tears. “Maybe I’m the fool for hoping, even after telling myself that I was moving on, that you would say something, anything, anything at all. But you never did. You never did, until now… maybe you’re right. I am scared—terrified because I love Daejoon. I know I do but I. KEEP. THINKING. OF. YOU!”

Jinyoung held his eyes, with the pad of his fingers, heaving a deep sob before gathering himself to look at Mark again. Mark’s heart wrenched painfully at the sight. 

“I thought tonight would get you out of my mind. I don’t know—” Jinyoung grimaced. 

“Don’t marry him, Jinyoung. I’m begging you. Don’t—”

Jinyoung laughed sadly. “It’s too late now.” 

“Just forget about him and come to me. It doesn’t matter if it’s la—”

Jinyoung shook his head, frown growing deeper. “It’s a very romantic proposal in the rain like this but I…” he paused, swallowing hard, righting himself, his cold facade sliding back over his emotions. “I’ll have to reconsider… goodbye, Mark Tuan.”

He took a step away, then paused, turning back. 

“Don’t come tomorrow. I think it’ll be better for the both of us.”

Mark stared at the spot on the floor for too long, ignorant to the lightning flashing above his head. He dug into the deep part of his pocket, finding what he was looking for, he pinched the metal between his fingers. It felt like carrying the weight of his heartbreak in its physical form. Cold, wet and unforgiving.


	9. Chapter 9

####  **[ NOW ]**

##### WEEK -1 (25th August 2019)

Jaebeom can feel the tension in his shoulders. His close group of friends are strained. His friends have been with him since high school were distant, strained,  _ fighting  _ and he doesn’t know what’s going on. 

In his head he had called the seven of them—Mark, Jackson, Jinyoung, Youngjae, Bambam, Yugyeom, and himself—GOT7 because if you count all of them you have seven friends. Or best friends. Or even family. Or as Bambam would put it ‘his people’. 

He scoffs at the thought of Bambam dramatically calling them his people and then frowns. He hasn’t met all the seven of them in one place in a long time and the thought of it makes him sad. The last time they met altogether had been Jinyoung’s engagement party at the end of last year and that had been a whole eight months ago. And now, Jinyoung’s wedding is next week. 

And he still can’t get GOT7 together. He sighs. 

If only he could figure out what was going on. 

But first he needed to go to Jinyoung. Everyone else can wait. He’s Jinyoung’s best man and the best man has to do his duty!

Then he can start to think about why Yugyeom was fighting with Jinyoung. Or why Jackson was being shifty. Or why Bambam glares at Mark sometimes. And how when he invites them out for a get together the only people who show up are Youngjae, Jinyoung, and an occasional Jackson. Something is up and he will figure it out. 

He rings the bell to Jinyoung’s apartment and it opens almost immediately, as if Jinyoung had been waiting. Jinyoung looks at him and disappointment colours his expression as if he was waiting for someone else. 

“Why do you look so disappointed to see me? You called me to come quickly.”

Jinyoung looks at him. He looks like he’s about to cry. 

“I don’t know, I thought it would be…” he stammers. Something in his tone tells Jaebeom something was very wrong. Jinyoung sounds like he is about to break. “I don’t know, I thought Mark would come.”

Jaebeom is confused. Jinyoung is not making any sense. He grips Jinyoung’s arm pulling him inside. It is then he sees that the house is trashed. Broken lamps, books from shelves on the floor as if a tornado had just passed by. The house is a wreck. 

“Jinyoung, what happened? Where’s Daejoon?”

“He’s gone,” Jinyoung sobs, crumpling to the ground. “He left.”

“What?” Jaebeom is flabbergasted. They had been good. Daejoon was a good man. He took care of Jinyoung. Jaebeom had seen it with his own eyes. But how?   
  


Jinyoung’s on the floor, bowed on the ground, knees to his chest, shaking. Jaebeom squats next to him, hand on shoulder, speechless at the state of disarray he rarely ever sees in Jinyoung. But Jinyoung is elsewhere, his eyes boring holes into the screen of his phone that he clutched in his hand like it was a life line. 

Then Jaebeom understands. 

On the screen was Mark’s contact. Jinyoung’s thumb hovering over the unblock contact button. 

That was Jinyoung’s lifeline. Since the start. 

And suddenly, Jinyoung’s cold demeanor to Mark makes sense.Something had been going on but Jaebeom had chosen to overlook it because Jinyoung seemed happy with Daejoon. 

Clearly, he had been missing the big picture. 

“Do you want me to call Mark to come over?”

Jinyoung looks at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears, looking broken. Jaebeom is gutted. 

“No.” Jinyoung croaked, voice rough. “The one who pushed him away was me.”

-o0o-

####  **[ PRESENT DAY ]**

#####  **1st September 2019; 7.47 p.m.**

If Mark opens his eyes, he should be on the floor of his apartment, soaked wet all the way through. It should be 1st September 2019. The day before Jinyoung’s wedding. Jinyoung had just left him standing in the rain and he had walked aimlessly for hours with Jinyoung’s voice repeating  _ goodbye, Mark Tuan _ again and again.

He opens his eyes, and he is in his apartment but he is not drenched wet. 

He’s sitting on his favourite chair, the one by the window, feeling like he just woke up from a nap. He looks at his right hand… the ring isn’t there. 

His phone rings but his eyes catch the time. 

7.47 p.m. 

He had returned to that day, no, today, at a later hour than 7 p.m. (maybe around 9?) definitely later than 7 p.m.. What was going on? Where was he?

And then he snaps out of it to realize Jinyoung was calling him. His heart thumps heavily in his chest, painful rather than fluttering, like an old wound. For a moment he is tempted to not pick up, but something tells him he should. So he does. 

“Hey.” Jinyoung's tone is forcefully casual. It makes Mark nervous.

“Oh?” 

“Was wondering if you’re free for dinner?” Jinyoung clears his throat. “I can come by.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, Mark. You know, the meal normal people usually have, typically around 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.,” Jinyoung rambles, a genuine smile now evident in his voice. “Feel free to stop me when it rings a bell.”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Mark deadpans, then decisively. “Sure.”

“Sure, what? Sure for dinner or sure you remember what dinner is, now?”

“Have you always been this annoying or did I just now remember it?” Jinyoung’s laughter booms through the line in reply. Mark tries to tamp the swell of emotion it causes within him but it is a lost cause. 

“Okay. I’m on my way,” Jinyoung says, hanging up without further confirmation. 

_ Woah, did he mean right now? _

Mark stares at the screen of his phone in disbelief. Then, frantically searches for the ring—his fingers, his pocket, around his chair—it was nowhere to be found. Did he drop it somewhere? 

He stares at the spaces around his finger and remembers the scorching heat, his fingers tugging on the ring until finally it fell on the floor with a loud clang. It was on the bathroom floor in 2018. 

The blood drains from his face, his fingers that were scorched from trying to remove the ring turn cold. He feels a certain dread that he had fucked it up and now, he was stuck.

It was only a few hours early though, so maybe it's not so bad. He can just live these extra hours again. It was no big deal. He could do it. He tries not to allow the creeping sorrow from having to go through being rejected, again. 

_ Oh… _

Dinner. Jinyoung had asked him if he wanted dinner. That had happened before. But this time Jinyoung had said he would come over. Does that mean they get to skip the fancy restaurant? Was Jinyoung going to show up in a suit?

Mark gulps hard. 

The doorbell rings and Mark jumps. Was Jinyoung already here? That fast?

Heart in his throat, almost shaking with nerves, he opens the door. Jinyoung stood there holding bags of what he guesses was their dinner. He wasn’t in a suit. 

“I have pizza and beer!” Jinyoung announces which makes Mark jump again. This day was full of surprises already. 

Tonight is going to be a  _ long  _ night. 

-o0o-

The night had unfolded like before. They had pizza and beer and Jinyoung was comfortably cracking jokes at him, talking his ear off about a funny memory of Yugyeom betraying him in which Mark was, yet again, distracted. He was dressed casually—a plain long sleeve shirt with light blue jeans. It was simple but it looked expensive on him.

Jinyoung’s wedding was tomorrow. And he was still here. 

But at the same time, everything was different. Jinyoung had come with food directly to his house. There was no fancy restaurant invite, cornering Mark into an uncomfortable atmosphere. Jinyoung wasn’t in his overly formal grey suit. For the most part they were more comfortable with each other. 

And after all his time slips, maybe this was as much as they were ever going to achieve. This normalcy of friendship despite Mark yearning for more. The thought depresses him; Jinyoung being married tomorrow and carrying on to live his married life while Mark would just be, well, Mark. 

He sighs out loud, laying his head on the dining table in front of him. He could feel Jinyoung’s eyes watch him, openly, unlike the glances he had thrown once and a while before. 

“We only had a bit to drink. Are you that drunk?” Jinyoung says smiling softly. He extends his hand, laying his warm palm on Mark’s forehead, threading his finger through his hair. The emotion it fills Mark with is complicated: a mix of deja vu and bittersweet happiness. Happiness because of this affection Jinyoung shares with him, his physical touch, and then the bittersweet feeling that it would be the last. 

He had tried his best to win Jinyoung over, albeit a clumsy attempt; he had said it the way he felt it. And yet he feels like when the night ends, Jinyoung’s last words would be,  _ Don’t come tomorrow. I think it’ll be better for the both of us. _

“I’m sorry things happened the way they did,” Jinyoung whispers, still playing with Mark’s hair at the tip of his fingers. “I didn’t mean to break us apart.”

Mark shifts his head, resting his chin on the fold on his arm and shakes his head. “It’s not your fault alone. I was kinda selfish. I only thought about what I felt, what I wanted… it must have been hard for you.”

Jinyoung gives him a meaningful look. Not really agreeing but also not denying it. Probably thinking about how with every confrontation, Mark had shown his feelings to Jinyoung, putting him in an awkward position. How do you choose between your childhood friend and the love of your life?

Mark ignores the dull pain that came with the realization that Jinyoung will always choose his husband over him. He rests his cheek on the back of his hand, letting the alcohol drowsiness wash over him. He can feel the way Jinyoung traces the movement with his eyes. The way his eyes don’t leave him, openly staring. 

“It must have been hard for you too,” Jinyoung whispers, leaning closer to Mark. He lifts his hand as if to ruffle Mark’s hair again but he stops himself. He places it in between them, on the table. “I’m sorry.”

Mark places his hand on Jinyoung’s, squeezing, still resting his cheek on his other hand. Jinyoung looks at him, more miserable than ever, the hairs around his face falling to cover his eyes as he stares at their hands. 

“Stop looking so miserable. It’s okay,” Mark murmurs, picking Jinyoung’s hand up to place it on his cheek. The palm of Jinyoung’s hand is cold against his warm cheeks. Mark sighs in contentment at the flutters in his stomach and the quickening pace of his heartbeat. He just wants to bask in Jinyoung’s presence. 

Jinyoung smiles at him, just a small upturn of the right side of his mouth, gaze cast softly on Mark. “I’ve missed you.”

Mark frowns at Jinyoung. “Don’t say that.”

Jinyoung’s thumb strokes his cheek, tenderly. Ignoring Mark’s warning, he leans closer still. “But what if I did?” he says, like a taunt.

Mark grips Jinyoung’s arm, stopping Jinyoung’s thumb from stroking the apples of his cheeks and pushing Jinyoung away. He tries to calm the panic within him but it’s not really working. He straightens, annoyance steadily growing. 

“You can’t say that!” he grumbles. 

“Say what? That I miss you? But why?”

“Because… ugh… you just can’t.” Mark says, flustered. His heart was thumping loudly, painfully in his chest. The mixture of pleasure and pain is a feeling he does not know how to deal with. Was this Jinyoung torturing him?

When he looks up at Jinyoung, the other is smiling widely. His expression has a tinge of mischief written all over it. The same expression Jinyoung would wear if he had managed to prank someone. 

But this is a cruel prank. He knew about Mark’s feelings so why was he teasing him like this?

“Why do you look so happy? What are you hiding, Park Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung makes a small noise, sounding like stifled laughter. His eyes are glinting with mischief as he looks at Mark. “You know, Jackson gave me something a few days ago.”

Jinyoung is evading his question so Mark frowns further. 

“Did you know he had been avoiding me since the engagement party? I thought he was mad about, I don’t know, how I got mad at you that day? Or he felt awkward about it all. I’m not sure. But he called me a few days ago, saying that he needed to talk and he gave me something.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow. What was Jinyoung’s point? “What was it?”

“A ring. A ring he found at the engagement party.”

Mark frowns deeper. Jinyoung was pulling his leg, surely. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Patience, Mark. You’ll see in a moment,” he smirks. It’s stupidly attractive. Mark hates it with a passion. “So he gives me this ring, right? And I’m just like, ‘What the fuck, Jackson?’ but he told me to look closer at the ring. He told me, and these are his words, that I should think about everything before I act. He had found it on the floor in the washroom and he felt like it was  _ destiny  _ and it  _ meant something _ .”

Jinyoung digs into his right pocket for a long moment. Mark feels breathless because in that washroom, he had thrown the firefly ring. The one that had brought him back in time. And Jackson had somehow found it and gave it to Jinyoung. 

Jinyoung finds it, a silver ring, presenting it to Mark in between his thumb and index finger. Mark expects to see the yellowstone of the firefly, glinting up at him. 

But it’s not. It is a blank silver ring. No firefly. No yellow stone. 

When Mark stares at it and says nothing, Jinyoung grabs his hands and thrusts it in his palm. “Take a closer look.”

And then Mark sees the inscription. 

_ 042209 _

Time ceases to exist, seeming to come to a full stop. He is pulled instead to the moment he had bought the ring on Jinyoung’s birthday. To the moment he asked for the engraving of those numbers into the inside of the ring. To the nights he stared at it almost every night, wanting to just show up at Jinyoung’s place and just say,  _ don’t marry him, marry me _ . But he had kept it, held on to it, at Jinyoung’s engagement party and to the fancy restaurant that day.

_ “Just forget about him and come to me. It doesn’t matter if it’s la—” _

_ “It’s a very romantic proposal in the rain like this but I… I’ll have to reconsider... goodbye, Mark Tuan.” _

He shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present. “Where did you find this?”

“Were you listening at all?” Jinyoung chuckles, shaking his head as if Mark was being endearing. “Jackson gave it to me. I told you.”

Mark attempts to speak, opening his mouth then closing it, then opening it again but words don’t form. 

“042209… 04 for you, 22 for me, and 09 for us,” Jinyoung says, picking up the ring from Mark’s open palm, inspecting it. Then, he slides it onto his ring finger where it fits perfectly as Mark intended and stares at it. Mark’s heart feels like it is about to burst by it’s seams. “You asked me about it that day, didn’t you? Last year? In this very house?”

Mark nods. He had. In the past, he hadn’t. But he went back in time and he had asked. 

“Did you change the passcode to your door?”

Mark shakes his head. 

“Because you like it, right? Me… you…  _ us _ . It’s so corny but you said it like that before, didn’t you?” Jinyoung sighs in contentment, looking so pleased with himself but Mark can’t understand why. It feels like he was missing something. Something important. 

“What are you trying to say, Jinyoung?”

“Can I ask you a question first? I promise to answer everything later.”

Mark cocks an eyebrow, then agreeing hesitantly.

“At the engagement party, you said, it was tiring. That it hurt. Did you mean… me?” His eyes shift to the ground, nervous. “Did you throw the ring away because you gave up on me?” 

Jinyoung absentmindedly taps the ring on his finger. It looks good on his hand, like it belonged there. Mark grimaces. He was about to confess to an engaged man, again. 

“I don’t think you’d like the answer.”

Jinyoung purses his lips. “Try me.”

“I haven’t,” Mark says, swallowing hard. “I don’t think I can give up on you. I’ve loved you for the longest time.”

“Since when?” Jinyoung asks, breathless. 

“That’s not fair! I answered my question. It’s your turn!”

Jinyoung pouts adorably, crossing his arms. It’s a marvel to Mark that he wasn’t five years old. He looks cute enough to eat. “Fine. Ask away!”

“There is something you’re hiding from me. Something you aren’t telling me. Tell me.”

Jinyoung’s shoulder’s fall. Whatever the secret was, he was not looking forward to revealing it. At first he procrastinates, righting his shirt, folding his sleeves then pushes his hair back only to mess it up again. And then he inhales deeply and looks Mark straight in the eye. 

“We broke up.”

Mark’s jaw drops. “What?”

Jinyoung sighs aloud, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering strength to explain. And then he rambles. 

“I think it was only a matter of time before, you know, before the inevitable. I went into it for the wrong reasons. At first, I was a bit naive, you know, I was just curious what it would be like to date someone.” Jinyoung averts his eyes, fingers still toying with the ring, before continuing, “and Daejoon, he was, he was nice, a real nice guy. He was always so decisive. Everything in his life was planned out—get a date, engaged by six months and married into a year. I didn’t have to think. All I had to do was stay along on the ride. It was so easy.”

Jinyoung gives him a meaningful look. “But my feelings for you were so… so complicated. There were all these questions of, Do you like me back? Or when will you see me as more than your best friend? Or how do I not lose you if you knew. All these questions with all these uncertainties.”

“But then Jackson gave me this ring,” he raises his hand, flashing the ring to Mark, “and I realized that you were always giving me answers. When I questioned if I was special to you, you showed me. When I asked myself if you cared for me, you took care of me. When I asked myself if it mattered that I was dating another man, you gave me a piece of your mind. Very selfishly too.” Mark turns bright pink. 

“You were always giving me your answers. I was just too blind or too caught up with the questions that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.” Jinyoung exhales loudly. “And Daejoon he could see right through me. That man, who had a plan and wanted so bad to stick to it, saw right through me, and did you know what he said?”

A single tear rolls down Jinyoung’s cheek as Mark shakes his head in reply. 

“He said he can’t shake the feeling that we would have kids one day, in a house we built together, and I would wake up one day and have no idea why I did any of it.”

“Do you still want to marry him?” Mark’s voice is raw. 

Jinyoung shakes his head, tears falling freely now. “I don’t think I ever wanted to.”

“Then why are you here, Jinyoung?”

“Because I can’t get you out of my head. You selfish, clumsy, impulsive, incredibly-lucky-that-I-haven't-killed-you-yet bastard! Get out of my head!”

Mark lunges forward, unable to control himself any further, catching the neck of Jinyoung’s shirt, pulling it close to him. He wants to just kiss him right there and then but holds himself an inch apart. “If you don’t want this, tell me now.” he practically growls. 

“If you don’t kiss me now, you wouldn’t be incredibly lucky anymore. I might just kill you.”

Mark kisses him. Their lips clash too hard at first, too eager in trying to fulfill the carnal instinct to just devour the other. But Mark’s grip on Jinyoung’s collar slackens, moving down, spreading his palm on Jinyoung’s strong chest before gently pushing Jinyoung to the ground. Mark wants to just rip their clothes open right there and then but Jinyoung gently pushes Mark away, holding them apart. 

“I need to hear it. Do you like me, Mark?”

Mark can’t help the full laughter that escapes his mouth. “I fucking love you, Jinyoung. The answer to that will never change.” 

Jinyoung smiles then. The brightest Mark has ever seen him smile, traces of his tears still there but it’s overshadowed by how he lights up with that smile. He circles his arms around Mark’s neck, pulling him close again for another kiss. 

This was not the ending Mark had in mind but who was he to complain? 

-o0o-

####  4th September 2019; 12:15 a.m. 

Mark sits at his favourite armchair by the large windows of his apartment. All the lights were turned off and the only lights that illuminated his apartment were the far away city lights. He stares at the view, amazed at how this same exact view was depressing to him just a few months ago. But now it isn’t. 

He hears a rustle from inside his bedroom, then the sound of footsteps grow louder until finally warm arms wrap around his shoulders and hot breath tickles his neck.

“Aren’t you going to bed, birthday boy?” Jinyoung’s voice is rough and the stubble on his chin feels sharp on his bare shoulder. 

“Just looking at the view.” Jinyoung tilts his head slightly, following Mark’s gaze. When Mark doesn’t say anything else, he circles the arm chair to sit on the arm rest. 

“Don’t you see this view every night though? What do you see?” he whispers into the darkness, pulling the thin blanket closer to his naked body. Mark clasps Jinyoung’s hand in his, wanting to stay connected. He will never get used to how just this simple gesture makes his whole body feel warm, loved. 

Mark stares at the city lights, scattered on the horizon from distant billboards, partially lit buildings and skyscrapers that look like toy structures from how small they look. He looks down to his right hand, the one intertwined with Jinyoung, and sees a matching non-descript silver ring. He thinks of the firefly ring but he prefers the one with their inscription instead. 

He smiles, unabashed. “Fireflies in September.”

“Again with the fireflies.” Jinyoung rolls his eyes dramatically. “I swear to god old age has made you senile.”

“YAH!” Mark pokes Jinyoung’s side making Jinyoung lose balance and fall onto his lap. “I’ll show you senile.”

“Ah! Please forgive me, old sir!” Jinyoung mockingly begs as Mark tackles him, falling into a tangle of blankets and skin on the floor. Instead of tickling him, Mark plants a kiss on his lips, smiling into his boyfriend’s lips. 

“Mmmm,” Jinyoung hums as Mark places little kisses on Jinyoung’s face. “I love you, my firefly prince.”

Mark laughs against Jinyoung’s skin, still focusing on kissing every inch of Jinyoung’s face. 

“I love you too, Jinyoung.” He says. “Always.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers:  
> This fic is loosely inspired by Proposal Daisakusen.  
> Any mistakes found in it are my own.  
> The fairytale depicted in the story is fictitious.  
> Any resemblance to real life fairytales are purely coincidental. 
> 
> If you reached the end, you may as well comment on how confusing this was for you <3


End file.
